Luo Jia climbed the stairs.

It took him a long time to realize that he was ascending the stairs, and it took even longer to realize that he had a destination. Strangely, when he realized this, his vision expanded to his feet as if he had awakened, and the white steps were cascading all the way to the end of his vision.

They are rounded, but very sharp, and these two contradictory concepts are the first impression of the original on the steps. Blood flowed from beneath his feet, cascading down the steps, depicting the scarlet trail.

"The road is nothing but a deformed blade, just as blood is another form of footprint." A sweet voice admonished him. As Luo Jia followed the voice, he noticed that there were also ends to the left and right of the steps, and huge crystal walls stood on both sides, making the young original almost think that he was a specimen crushed between the glasses. It reminded him of Shelley's workbench with a glass layer of perpetual press.

He decided to walk over and look at the overlapping images of the crystals. The change of direction caused a trail of blood to wind from his feet, but he didn't care.

As she approached the edge, Luo Jia slowly saw the presence behind the wall. In the clear liquid, countless human bodies and things that do not look like human bodies are suspended in it, and the intricacies extend into the dark areas where vision is blurred. Their hair strands are intertwined like aquatic plants. He saw some giants, some monsters, and half-giants, half-monsters. The torso smeared with golden runes flashed away, the sea-green eyes stared at him silently, and a little golden dazzle in the center of the iris dazzled; A giant tore at the cable above his head. There were many more familiar faces, reaching out to him, as if to drag him into this boundless body of water and drown. This eerie sight took the Primordial a step backwards.

Knock knock. A soft tapping sound sounded, attracting Luo Jia's attention. The silver-haired, purple-eyed vocalizer smiled at him, and floated gracefully with his arms outstretched, his flamboyant snake tail swaying softly twice.

Knock knock. He tapped it lightly twice more with his shiny nails, and Luo Jia's breath stagnated. Through the soft white light of unknown origin, he finally saw the other person's face clearly, it was the face of Forgrim, and even the expression of pursing his lips and smiling was the same.

Seeing that his attention had been captured, "Fogham" was even happier as the snake's tail raised and made a splash. With his white fingertips scribbling a line on the crystal, Luo Jia smoothly understood the meaning of the high Gothic letters written backwards.

"You're back."

He shuddered, and the scene was so strange that he wanted to flee as soon as possible. But "Vogrim" is clearly in a good mood. The other party clasped his hands to his chest, and the third hand—Luo Jia only found out that the other party had four arms—continued to write: "Come here." ”

Before the last letter could finish, Fogham's head was slammed against the wall, so force that the entire crystal trembled. A man with skin as white as snow and hair as white as midnight poked his head out from behind him, clutching a large handful of silver-white hair in his right hand. The other party's black pupils without the whites of his eyes looked straight over, and he didn't need words to detect the monstrous hatred in it, and Luo Jia took a step back.

The corners of the young primordial man's mouth twitched as he groaned as he made sure he didn't need to continue watching the literal cramping and peeling. He turned around decisively and ran towards the end of the steps. But the last image he saw still echoed in his thoughts.

"Fogream", whose face was covered in blood, still smiled, and said to him with his mouth:

"We'll see you again, we're you."

I don't know how long it took to run, maybe half a minute, maybe a century. A large silver arch appeared at the end of his vision. Its curves were smooth and graceful, more like flowing than casting, with indecipherable runes engraved into it. But when Luo Jia reached out and tried to touch it, it fell to the ground with the weak force of the original body, crackling and shattering into a glittering silver nugget.

The original body retracted its hand suddenly, and subconsciously looked left and right, but found no one else.

I wonder if Shelley can fix it...... Stopping his thoughts, he cautiously crouched down to pick up a larger piece of water, which melted into a pool of glittering water in the temperature of his palm. The elaborate alien language on the door has been turned into a scribbled Colchisman: "The false blade is sharp in the dreams of the gods." ”

It's more complicated than he thinks.

Luo Jia got up and fluttered at the corner of his clothes, looked at the deep corridor in front of him and sighed.

Whether it's true or not, he's going to go in once.

An ornate labyrinth, this is Luo Jia's first impression of the interior of this building. Beneath the graceful vaults, stained-glass columns refracted the light more psychedelic than to deceive the eyes of mortals. They emit a dangerous aura that makes the original try not to look at it. The mosaic tiles inlaid on the ground are even more exquisite, depicting a lifelike natural landscape, but a little paint peeling off.

Luo Jia noticed something, squatted down to take a closer look at the peeling, and found that there was a layer of paint behind it. He reached out and pulled the dagger from the air that Victor had given him, then froze in place. After looking at it for a while, he shook his head, put his doubts out of his mind for a moment, and carefully scraped the paint.

Soon, the beautiful natural scenery was scraped by the blade, revealing the picture behind it. Compared to the indescribable brightness of the first layer, the second layer is much bleaker. The huge spaceship landed on a dusk planet, and people came out of it and scattered in the desert, where they dismantled the ship and built a new home.

The initial picture is very monotonous. Until someone started speaking in the crowd. An unknown painter has created a striking circle of light behind the man's head, perhaps some kind of artistic expression.

In the next picture, people begin to bow down in front of four statues. The statues are painted in vivid red, blue, green, and purple colors, which contrast with the overall dull color palette.

Immediately afterward, a meteorite with a glittering golden light fell into the desert, and the painting was occupied by a large area of bright four colors, surrounding that little bit of gold, as if to swallow it.

A little golden man came out of the meteorite, and he walked and walked in the desert until a man in a robe dyed in four colors found him and held him in his arms, and the little golden man was also dyed in four colors.

Rain of fire and brimstone descended on the planet dyed with four colors. This made Luo Jia's breath stagnate, and he felt a tingling pain in his heart for no reason, and tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. He wiped his eyes for some unknown reason and looked at the last painting.

A huge spaceship has landed on a dusky planet.

The original frowned, and checked it again, and the picture was indeed over. Perhaps it was a mistake on the part of the painter who reprinted the first picture. But would the craftsman who built such a beautiful palace make such a low-level mistake?

He thought for a moment, then raised his dagger again to peel off the paint. There's even a layer of painting underneath. But after scraping it clean, Luo Jia was sluggish again.

There is no specific picture on the last layer, only the four colors of blue, green, red and purple infect the whole picture.