Krafft's Anomaly Notes

Chapter 403 Echoes
Itching is a rather unique bodily signal. Contrary to intuition, it is actually a different thing from the itch felt when being scratched.

The latter originates from mechanoreceptors in the skin, pathways related to touch and movement, activating defensive responses that make people aware of something intruding into their safe distance, prompting them to avoid or struggle.

The former is controlled by a dedicated set of nerve fibers, activated by various inflammatory mediators, and runs parallel to pain while being independent of and mutually inhibiting each other. Therefore, it can be relieved by scratching, and the temporary relief will make the brain tend to continue scratching, even breaking the skin when it becomes unbearable.

The former is inside, the latter is outside.

The "deep-seated itching" undoubtedly indicates a dramatic change within the body, with an unknown cause of the reaction proceeding rapidly and spreading like wildfire in a short period of time.

He rolled up his sleeves and saw a rash spreading in sync with the itching. Centered on a fragment embedded in the skin, it was congested and swollen, forming large patches of erythema resembling severe urticaria.

Beneath the skin, the itching spread deeper, gradually developing into a slight burning sensation. A dull, rolling pain, like copper beads, coursed through the bones, and the joints stiffened as if cast in molten iron.

My arm felt like a water sac filled with boiling water, hot and tight, yet it could always hold more. There was no moment when it would burst, only an ominous numbness rising from the worst part, swallowing up normal touch.

A dull, undeniable pale sheen appeared on the surface of the inlay. They had been dormant for a long time, always hiding outside the range of the immune system's surveillance, so long that the host sometimes got used to their presence.

At this moment, it seems that a trace of the remaining will from the bottom level has been awakened. They have once again become "foreign objects," rejecting this body, while being rejected by this body at the same time.

The result inherited the consistent characteristics of hypersensitivity reactions: rapid and intense, with bones and flesh instantly becoming a brutal tug-of-war battlefield.

The effects are even spreading. Large amounts of immune inflammatory mediators are released, circulating throughout the body via the bloodstream, causing feelings of heat and palpitations.

As the itching moved across his sternum and up his neck, he felt a bit of difficulty breathing, as if there was a wad of tightly packed dry cotton stuffed in his throat that he couldn't swallow or cough up.

This is not an illusion, but one of the most serious complications of allergies: laryngeal edema. At the narrowest point of the glottis, even a few millimeters of swelling can cause significant airway restriction.

The suffocating footsteps were already echoing in my ears.

Without hesitation or wasting energy on pointless calls for help, he tried to calm himself down and reduce oxygen consumption. He easily found what he needed on the neatly arranged shelves—a tracheal intubation kit.

Theoretically, it is almost impossible for a person to perform endotracheal intubation on themselves. The intense stimulation of the tube passing through the oropharynx, along with severe coughing and vomiting reflexes, is extremely difficult to endure while conscious.

Furthermore, due to the limitations of posture and field of vision, the already difficult operation becomes even more challenging, and even the most skilled veterans struggle to find the right angle.

But some people have overcome even more extreme discomfort, and their vision is no longer limited by their eyes.

He tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and took a deep breath, inserting the leather-wrapped tube into his throat, squeezing open a passage before the edema completely blocked the glottis.

It felt like swallowing a whole piece of burning coal; it was dry, itchy, stinging, and burning in my throat, but I was able to keep breathing.

However, this was only the beginning of a series of reactions. Seemingly stimulated by something in consciousness or the mental senses, the allergic reaction progressed to the next level.

His vision was obscured by a hazy black border, and he noticed that he was shivering. Within minutes, the heat began to shift to the other extreme.

The blood vessels throughout the body dilate and become more permeable due to inflammation, like a constantly enlarging and leaking sac. The internal pressure drops sharply and can no longer reach the peripheral circulation, leaving the skin cold and damp.

My heartbeats like drumsticks, each one farther than the last.

Anaphylactic shock, the most fatal part of an acute allergic reaction, has arrived as expected.

Unlike hemorrhagic shock, it cannot be effectively corrected by fluid resuscitation. The body does not lack fluid, it simply cannot retain it in the bloodstream.

Fortunately, it is easier to treat. Biological evolution has naturally formed a mobilization signal in the face of the most advanced life threats—adrenaline. A single injection can block almost all pathological processes, including but not limited to vasoconstriction, tracheal dilation, cardiac stimulant, blood pressure suppression, inflammation inhibition, and shutting down excessive and unnecessary immune responses, thus directing resources to survival maintenance.

Unfortunately, this inexpensive drug, which is usually kept in any ambulance and costs only a few dollars per dose, is now out of reach.

The darkness in my vision was worsening; the ischemia in my retina made midday feel like midnight, and time was running out.

Perhaps in a few minutes, or even the next second, the brain, deprived of effective blood supply, will shut down completely. At that point, he would better pray that his mental and physical abilities can exist independently of his biological basis.

Either we have to invent a miracle drug on the spot that is no less effective than adrenaline, with the same broad and rapid inhibitory effect.

Obviously unlikely.

The lingering warmth of consciousness struggles in the cold darkness, trying to grasp at any inspiration.

A sound like scales sliding and overlapping arose, as if something had discovered the loosening of the cage. Upon closer listening, it was almost an invitation, as if the world outside of cognition had opened a crack in consciousness, waiting only for the loss of everything that could be lost, so that one could pass through it.

The invitation was rejected; a peaceful death is easier to accept than meaningless immortality.

Before accepting death, biological instincts are still making their final decisions.

Fast-acting, suppressive?
There's no adrenaline, but there is something that perfectly matches the description, because safe alternatives have been out of the public eye for a long time.

A cold, trembling hand opened the bottom layer of the sample box, where a pure black liquid flowed in a glass bottle, waiting as always.

Its patience is as enduring as its unfading color—one day it will be drunk, the outcome of which was already predetermined at its birth, whether someone succumbs to the call or is forced by some unforeseen accident.

Kraft took out a drop, dissolved it in water, took a small sip, and held it under his tongue.

In Wenden Port, he had seen too many people's reactions after taking it, so he sat on the floor before swallowing it, waiting for the crisp sound of the back of his head hitting the ground.

Development has not been as expected, or at least not entirely.

After sitting still for several seconds, my shaky consciousness still supported my body.

There is a subtle feeling of falling, as if a thick carpet has suddenly been laid under your feet, or the mattress has been removed, which is difficult to distinguish from the dizziness caused by shock.

The diluted black liquid did work, though not enough to take the mind and body to a deeper level, but its physiological effects were being released without reservation.

The spread of darkness in my field of vision gradually came to a halt until it stopped completely, like slowly rising from underwater. The air was murky and heavy, and a feeling of nausea and vomiting welled up inside me.

The cold and numbness were replaced by aching and tingling, and temperature and touch slowly returned to the skin.

Before the joy of escaping death could even begin, a message arrived first.

He "heard" a muffled sound, like some kind of impact, distant, but not from the lightning charges of thunderclouds beyond the horizon, but an echo of the past, of shattered celestial bodies and torn scales.

When the conflict reappears by chance, its aftershocks follow the same trajectory and are drawn to this place.

(End of this chapter)