Chapter 848 Set me free
Without Lin Fan's interference, Trazin's work went very smoothly.
As a cultural relic collector and archaeologist, Trazin is very skilled in the art of cultural relic restoration. Therefore, in the process of connecting Orikan and the Butcher's Nail, he used more of a clay sculpture technique to work.
A large amount of living metal was transferred by Trazin and spread on Orikan's body. As Trazin kneaded, cut, and molded it, an Orikan with the figure of Angron appeared in Trazin. Born in hands.
The head and neck of the original body that were much larger than ordinary people made it possible for Trazin to install more black stones. Trazin was indeed not very skilled, but he was very wealthy and could easily find them from his small warehouse. Many blackstone trinkets to match the Butcher's Nail.
These accessories were buried in living metal and were not actually connected to Orikan's data core, they just seemed to be connected.
The face of the huge metal giant still adopts the shape of Orikan with a huge one eye. Trazin believes that this design can make Lin Fan's subconscious mind think that Orikan's consciousness will dominate this body.
Trazin finished his work and waited a long time, then he heard an unusual banging sound.
"Could there be a few cables plugged into the wrong place?"
Trazin thought, then held an instrument that could see through the living metal body and attached it to Orikan. The most basic equipment is working fine, and the source of the sound has not yet been found.
It can't be the sound of the heart, right? This is too evil.
Trazin put his head on Orikan's broad chest in confusion, and then his non-existent ears were telling him that there was an illusory heart beating in the soulless metal body.
Distorted metal sounds came from Orikan's grid-like mouth, and then he noticed Trazin pressed against his chest.
The doubtful mood only lasted for a moment in the rush of anger. He grabbed Trazin's head amidst the surprised sound, easily pulled the head off his body and threw it away.
Trazin's head hit Lin Fan on the back. He was stunned for a while, and then screamed in ecstasy, "Successful! Successful!"
There is no concept of time and space in this place, but to the clumsy observation and correction of the human eye and the soul's eye, this place appears high and narrow.
To the left and right are amorphous walls that glow with gray, and in the distance is a blurry end that emits a faint white light. Angron walked forward for a long time. After finding nothing, he tried to explore left and right.
Moving forward seems to be a false proposition here. The longer he observes the amorphous wall lacking details, the more Angron feels unbearable depression.
In the end, Angron chose to give up. He squatted down casually, holding his chin with one hand and thinking about his position.
"where am I?"
Angron muttered to himself, this was a very strange place for him. There is no fragment in my long memory that can match the scene in front of me.
Angron felt that his knowledge was broad enough. After becoming the devil of Khorne, his life was filled with boundless bright red. He didn't know how many huge arenas he had trampled to pieces, and how many prosperous worlds he had destroyed. The only obvious thing in his memory was the inextricable sense of futility.
Angron felt that the wall on one side was shaking, and the gray mist surged more violently, as if something was hitting the wall.
As the tremors increased, the speed of the mist surged faster, and a faint red pierced into Angron's eyes, but this red could only go so far, and could not break through and kidnap Angron away.
Angron closed his eyes in pain. He really didn't want to see anything red anymore. He could even smell the smell of blood piercing through his nostrils, submerging into his limbs and taking root in his body and bones. The butcher's nail deep in the soul roared.
Severe pain is coming!
Angron gritted his teeth. He spent countless years getting used to the pain, but he never succeeded.
The severe pain that would have caused the primarch to lose his mind and ability to communicate did not come. Angron's eyes widened in surprise. He subconsciously touched the back of his head, but did not feel the ferocious shape of the Butcher's Nail.
The long-lasting pain left Angron, and this discomfort made his head start to ache again, but Angron didn't care about the pain.
He jumped up and clapped like a child, lying on the ground laughing. After laughing until tears came out, he said with emotion, "This is a good place."
Angron looked at the endless blurry distance and closed his eyes heavily. He felt that he was relieved.
"I think it's okay."
A voice suddenly rang in his ears, and Angron opened his eyes. He was deeply impressed by the voice.
The guy in green armor and the Slaanesh demons pierced through the heavy defenses set up by the Khorne demons, pulled out his Butcher's Nail and dropped a bomb into his belly.
Angron sat up suddenly and looked around, trying to find the owner of the voice.
There was no green in the boundless gray. Instead, the entire seemingly long and dull space came alive. Waves of mist crashed onto Angron, trying to send him to the open gap in the wall on the other side.
Angron struggled to stabilize his body in the waves. He looked at the gap and saw only a galaxy full of war.
"No!" Angron roared, he didn't want to fight anymore, no matter who it was for, he didn't want to fight anymore.
The waves kept hitting him, each one harder than the last. Angron struggled and wailed in the waves in vain. He cursed why he was still alive and why the universe still refused to give him rest.
Finally he was sent out of the gap, and the tall, narrow gap became quiet again.
Angron doesn't know what's left of him now. His physical body was destroyed thousands of years ago. His soul is also technically in Khorne's hands.
Remaining consciousness? Ridiculous memory?
Angron felt himself flying across the galaxy, like a message sent by an astropath. He prayed that his speed could continue as he could feel the familiar pain getting closer to him.
Finally Angron stopped, in a place he still didn't recognize.
The fuzzy black light does not have such a simple function of illuminating it. As long as you look away, countless details will unfold in front of your eyes. In a space without angles and planes, there are countless flowing and changing digital pixelated appearances.
Angron tried his best to identify these flowing digital pixels, but only saw countless silent faces between the lines.
These are not humans, nor Eldar, nor Orcs.