The Old Eldar use a self-made product called Dream Maker. Its function is to make the attached creature dream. On the one hand, it can determine whether the creature has autonomous consciousness. On the other hand, dreams can actually extract more real information. Although Most dreams are bizarre.
Upon contact with the nerve, the jellyfish's tentacles begin to flutter, and the tiny segmented claws wriggle forward, expanding, rotating, and twisting until they fill the entire incision.
When dreamers create dreams, they also copy the host's brain patterns and store them in their own core.
Thoughts, memories, and dreams will all be downloaded into the spiritual bone fragments at its core for easy transmission. This is a more elegant method than simply dissecting brain matter, and this method does not waste materials.
But suddenly, the Dream Maker twitched violently, and then a stream of pale green liquid began to flow backwards along its tentacles. The old Eldar could see with the naked eye that its interior was being corroded and collapsed.
"It's interesting that the self-destruction mechanism can be activated under such circumstances."
Although the dream maker was expensive, the old Eldar cared more about the material. He quickly picked up a few needles and stuck them into the gaps in the brainworm's carapace, and took out a few black needles and pierced the back of its head.
Soon, the green corrosive fluid stopped secreting, but the Dream Maker almost turned into a puddle of mud. Fortunately, the material held it, otherwise it would corrode itself.
"It seems that it would be safer to start at the genetic level first."
"Master, Master Biltram from the Black Descendants Association came to visit and said he had something important to do."
When a voice came through the door, the old spirit tribe straightened up. Although his expression was very impatient, he knew that the other party would not come to him if nothing happened.
"I know, let him wait."
After that, the old spirit tribe walked out of the operating table and came to the corridor outside.
Compared to the clean and tidy operating room, this place is a completely different world. Wandering monsters and occasionally looming grotesque creatures sneak in the darkness. Their shouts echo in the cave-like corridors, fighting for large piles of garbage and metal. The fragments were fighting for each other. Above the cave, many upside-down, sightless, curved predators bit into the swinging arms and legs stretched out from the rock gaps. In the luminous fungal lighting, the short, brutal life in the dark madness was revealed.
In addition to the deformed artificial life forms, the guards here are also very weird. They have humanoid torsos, their legs are replaced by wheels or rail moving devices, and they are equipped with multiple metal arms, with syringes and blades on the tips. Saws or other surgical and dissecting instruments—the living parts had lost their color, were blistered by disease, and the wheels were covered in old blood.
They patrol constantly and occasionally clean up dying or dead creations.
But without exception, all living or non-living things crawled on the ground like maggots and trembled when they saw the old Eldar.
The old Eldar walked with his hands behind his back like a little old man walking in a hell made of flesh and blood, even though the surrounding environment was enough to drive ordinary people crazy - walls made of flesh were pulsing with blood vessels and underdeveloped organs, and blocked passages More like the intestines of some giant beast than a corridor.
After walking through this area, he came to a relatively less crazy place, which was full of pale-skinned slaves, mostly elves and humans. Although there was a regular and regular supply of fresh slaves, most of them Slaves are actually the product of self-reproduction.
They breed like rats in the darkness in this devil's cave, living a short and cruel life that is often interrupted by sudden violence.
The Old Eldar cared little for them, he only needed some labor and an occasional supply of raw materials.
Soon, he arrived at the place where he received the guests, a cozy little tea room.
The furnishings here are very simple, a huge chair for him to lie down on, a small coffee table, a few chairs, and a few crazy paintings on the walls that ordinary people can't understand. The floors and walls are made of spiritual bones, exuding Soft warm light.
The vice president of the Black Descendants has been standing here waiting for a long time. When he saw the old man pushing the door open and entering, he bowed his head respectfully.
"Grandmaster Racat, I'm disturbing you."
The arrogance and independence of the Haemonculi people are outstanding even in Commorragh. Being able to give a good look to an ordinary Haemonculus is already the highest courtesy from a consul, but to make a master Haemonculus bow his head, then This is something that all the Dark Eldar dare not even think about.
However, there is such a person. When all the Xue Ling people see him, they must respectfully call him Grand Master.
He is Urian Rakate, Lord of the Haemonculi, the first Haemonculi in Commorragh, and in a sense the founder of the current Haemonculi art.
If there is anyone in Comoros who can bear the words "high moral character and high respect", then only Urian Racat, and even the overlord of Comoros Victor can only be a humble person in front of him. juniors.
Urian Rakate's prestige comes not only from his strength as the first blood actor, but more importantly from being a witness to the end of the Eldar Empire and the Great Fall. Urian's past is too ancient to be tested. Some kind of In a sense, he is most likely the oldest living Eldar.
From the humblest slave in the Dark City to the supreme overlord, no one knows the name Urian Racat. For some, he is nothing more than a terrifying monster in a bedtime story, while for others, he would rather be under the bed. The monster is a fact and we don't want Urian Rakat to be a real existence. No matter how weird this ancestor's temper is, the entire upper class society in Comoros does not deny that this ancient Haemon is an outstanding artist of pain.
Urian Rakat was also bound to the Comoros conspiracy system and enjoyed a high position, but he had no desire for power. His thoughts had completely transcended the struggle for power and prestige, and he had put aside trivial political quarrels. He even chose to live in seclusion most of the time in order to avoid those power struggles contaminating himself. Only his trusted disciples and a few consuls knew where he was.
But this does not mean that the Haemon Grandmaster will avoid the world. Anyone who knows him knows that Urian Racate is synonymous with dark nature, so much so that some people regard him as a demigod representing suffering. Anyone who harms the Grand Master The profit fool is like being destined for the future by a truly vicious god of vengeance. The ending is extremely cruel, and the character of Urian Rakat is so uncertain that it is difficult to find a reason for any killing.
Therefore, although the other party behaved very harmlessly at this time, the vice president of the Black Descendants did not dare to take it lightly. He had studied under the Grand Master for thousands of years. There were more than 20 apprentices with him at the beginning, and in the end he was the only one. One person walked out of this devil's cave alive.
No one understands the horror of the other person better than him.
"Biltram, long time no see."
The Grand Master of the Xue Lingren had a warm smile on his face, and his tone was as friendly as if he was caring for his younger generation. Then he walked to the huge chair and sat forward.
Then a man walked in, holding two tea cups.
"Stop standing, sit down."
"yes."
Biltram sat carefully on the chair, but did not drink tea, just waiting for Urian Racat to speak.
