【生肉搬运】鸟雀Passerine 第六章（下）(9)
“Wilbur,” Techno said solemnly. “I need you to know this isn’t your fault.”
Wilbur’s brows drew together. “I don’t—”
“Listen to me,” Techno demanded in a voice that he had not used on him since they were tutor and pupil. “We’re here for one thing, and one thing only, and if anything can get in the way of that—your self-doubt, your fear, your loathing—I suggest you leave them at the door. Right here, right now. Do you understand?”
Wilbur’s eyes hardened. “I’m not a child.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Wilbur shrugged his hands of him and gritted out, “I understand,” before marching stoically up the rest of the way.
“How bad is it?” Philza asked quietly as they watched Wilbur reach the crest.
“fucking bad,” was all Techno said in response.
Techno could pinpoint the exact moment Wilbur saw it for himself. He went rigid, his hands curling into fists the only indication that he was not a statue of frozen flesh and bone. When Philza and Techno joined him at the summit, Techno heard his fellow god draw in a breath as he, too, took in the massacre below them. Burned bodies lying in scorched snow. Frostbitten corpses laid in careless piles or tossed against the city walls. Bodies too small to belong to adults. Blood scattered across the white landscape like some errant child had taken a red paintbrush to a blank canvas. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. The entire city presented like a gruesome welcome sign.
Wilbur’s brows drew together. “I don’t—”
“Listen to me,” Techno demanded in a voice that he had not used on him since they were tutor and pupil. “We’re here for one thing, and one thing only, and if anything can get in the way of that—your self-doubt, your fear, your loathing—I suggest you leave them at the door. Right here, right now. Do you understand?”
Wilbur’s eyes hardened. “I’m not a child.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Wilbur shrugged his hands of him and gritted out, “I understand,” before marching stoically up the rest of the way.
“How bad is it?” Philza asked quietly as they watched Wilbur reach the crest.
“fucking bad,” was all Techno said in response.
Techno could pinpoint the exact moment Wilbur saw it for himself. He went rigid, his hands curling into fists the only indication that he was not a statue of frozen flesh and bone. When Philza and Techno joined him at the summit, Techno heard his fellow god draw in a breath as he, too, took in the massacre below them. Burned bodies lying in scorched snow. Frostbitten corpses laid in careless piles or tossed against the city walls. Bodies too small to belong to adults. Blood scattered across the white landscape like some errant child had taken a red paintbrush to a blank canvas. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. The entire city presented like a gruesome welcome sign.
电梯里的苏柔上瘾第六章
