CHAPTER 75 – THE OBSIDIAN LABORATORY
The battlefield lay silent.
Thousands of clones sprawled across the plains, frozen in postures that mimicked life. At first glance, they seemed untouched, almost pristine. But Leylin moved among them with deliberate precision, every step measured. His presence stirred the shadows, and they seemed to lean toward him, as if the emptiness itself recognized their master.
He knelt beside the first clone. Hands extending with calculated intent, he sank his fingers into the chest. Flesh yielded like soft clay, faintly moist, but the sound it made was almost imperceptible...a subtle tearing that did not echo across the emptiness. From inside, something wriggled: thin, dark, worm-like strands of essence that squirmed through the hollow cavities.
These were synchronized with thousands of others, stretching across the plains, feeding into his will.Leylin's Gluttony Core pulsed faintly at the sensation, humming in recognition. With each motion, he absorbed the energy, drawing life from each pod, each hollow shell, without disturbing the outer forms.
He preserved the illusion of life while systematically hollowing them out.The sound spread like a macabre symphony: wet squelches, crunches, subtle munching echoes. Not chaotic, not random..but exact, synchronized, an orchestra of consumption conducted by his intent.
Each clone's essence was devoured from within, leaving only the shell, hollowed and mummified.
Leylin's movements were rhythmic, a predator tracing patterns in the air. The writhing threads of flesh and energy recoiled toward him, pulled as if by magnetism. His arms swept in wide arcs, gathering the remnants into coalescing spheres of golden energy
. Slowly, the mass began to merge, forming something familiar. Golden light flickered faintly beneath the surface as the Gluttony Core thrummed, confirming recognition.He pressed a hand against his stomach and murmured lowly, satisfied: "Ah… satisfied."
The plains stretched silent afterward. Hollowed shells, writhing remnants, and faint traces of energy were absorbed and organized under his will. Yet even as the battlefield fell into eerie quiet, his gaze sharpened, moving toward the distant laboratory.
Massive double doors loomed at the edge of the complex. Crimson symbols pulsed faintly across their surfaces, a resonance tingling at the edges of Leylin's perception. He extended a hand to brush the carvings. The formation reacted immediately: a flare of crimson light tried to consume him, hungry for the presence intruding on its domain.
The Gluttony Core pulsed once, resisting. A silent acknowledgment flickered within it, recognition of something familiar beyond the barrier.Leylin stepped through.
The chamber that greeted him was unexpected. An onyx palace stretched before him, polished columns spiraling skyward, archways dotted across walls that gleamed like obsidian glass. No pipes, no wires, no machinery. Every surface seemed alive, humming with energy. He could sense the battlefield's force, the devoured clones' essence, channeled seamlessly toward the center of the structure, converging into something greater.
At the core, Leylin froze. A lake-like pool shimmered faintly, half-embedding an obsidian pod within its depths. The pod's surface bore strange, unreadable engravings. His senses, even through the Gluttony Core, could not pierce the formation.He circled the pod thrice, observing the pull, the familiarity. Recognition flickered in his mind...something buried, ancient, impossibly vital, concealed within the obsidian.
Then movement caught his eyes. A smaller, fragile form floated in a rectangular glass chamber, bathed in crimson liquid. Streams of energy fed the infant steadily, siphoned directly from the surrounding formations. Above it hovered two cores, suspended mid-air: one pale, jelly-white, the other faintly pink. Sloth and Lust.
The cores were not simply suspended...they were shrinking, dripping essence into the infant below. Leylin's Gluttony Core thrummed in recognition, attuned to every pulse of energy, every subtle shift in formation.
He stepped closer, analyzing the structure. Every trace of energy bent around the formation, every pulse deliberate, every siphon precise. "What in..what is she creating that requires two cores?" he murmured under his breath.
The scale of the laboratory became apparent. This was no mere building..it spanned continents. Energy was drawn from the planetary crust, consolidated from the devoured clones, and funneled into this central formation with terrifying precision. It was the culmination of Crimson Six's ambition: to craft a vessel beyond comprehension.
Leylin remained calm. Every action of Crimson Six,the clones, the obsidian pod, the cores, the infant..had led him here. The pieces were laid bare, but the puzzle had not yet been solved.
He crouched slightly, placing his hands near the edges of the crimson-tinged glass chamber. His Gluttony Core pulsed, sensing opportunity, hungry for more. The infant, the pod, the formation..it was all within his grasp.
A faint hum, almost imperceptible, passed through the chamber, reverberating through his bones. The energy of thousands of devoured clones, the life force of a continent, the pulse of planetary crust itself...it all converged under his awareness. Leylin's eyes gleamed.
The feast had not ended.
He was ready.