ジェイコブ still stares up at an airvoid as the darkling 球 vanishes. The infinitely fragmented 表面 of the 洞くつ, like a piano randomly expanded into too many dimensions, sends off harmonic tensions which call up the 風 in his 心 and in his gut. He will scoot through the 洞くつ towards his doom as if propelled by his own flatulence.     ひどくグロテスクだった 体は一つなのに頭が四つもついていた どこかで会ったことがあるような気がした