Trazin lost his balance and fell into the door on the spot.
For the first time, he protected his head to prevent Dabi Dou from attacking suddenly.
He felt like his clone’s waist was almost broken by the kick.
It was also at this time that he began to wonder if there was something wrong with his Pharaoh-level armor.
The Nehrak dynasty is the richest dynasty in the entire Necron race, owning 70% of the wealth of the entire Necron race.
What kind of world engine, what kind of death mark, Trazin just dug it out and used it without feeling any pain.
Although those weak or declining dynasties also had Pharaohs and even Pharaoh-level armors, those armors were shabby in Trazin’s eyes.
Trazin’s Pharaoh’s armor was on the same level as his Pharaoh’s. Not to mention being kicked by someone, even being shot by a Titan, Trazyn didn’t even frown.
None of the men he brought could break his defense, so it was definitely not his own fault.
Trazin climbed up and began to observe the special features of this room.
The door behind him has disappeared, and there is only a long table in this room.
He stood up straight, trying to maintain a bit of the undead overlord’s demeanor.
Until a door at the end of the long table opened and then closed again.
However, Trazin didn’t see anyone coming in at all! Really, no one!
It’s so scary, so scary. His various visual aid systems didn’t even see how that thing came in from outside the door. What kind of optical invisibility is this?
Just when Trazin fell into infinite fear, a small pale hand appeared on the edge of the table opposite.
Trazin began to understand what Terran horror was.
Infinite maze, Star God, another self, opening and closing the door by himself, and a pale little hand!
This is not a space station, this is a space haunted house!
“Hey, I’m exhausted.”
At the end of the long table, a cute child with black hair and black eyes climbed onto the table.
Trazin instantly broke free from the immersive atmosphere of terror.
He looked at the child, then at the door, then compared the angles, and finally came to a conclusion.
The table was too high, blocking the child, so I didn’t see the other person’s body when opening and closing the door.
Trazin hugged her staff tightly and slowly approached the seemingly harmless child.
“Well, you are…”
Trazin is now a little nervous.
“Me, I’m an Internet cafe owner!”
The kids at the table are honest and kind.
Trazin translated it in the thesaurus and understood what the Internet cafe owner meant.
He began to think about how this civilization was destroyed due to the proliferation of the Internet, the rampant Slaanesh trend, and the invasion of electronic demons.
“What about you?” The harmless child began to eat snacks.
Trazin straightened up and introduced himself.
“I am the undead overlord from the Nehrak dynasty. The world respects me as the Endless One. I am a collector, a historian, and the owner of the Galaxy Museum!
By the way, what on earth is this place? “
From Trazin’s point of view, the other party was obviously his senior, and he was also trapped here, otherwise it would have been difficult to climb up the table.
“Here, how should I put it, this seems to be a trap, used by the owner here to catch a guy named Trazin.”
The little evil god is so sincere, not a single word is false.
Catch me? Trazin began to think about who she had offended recently.
He thought about it for a long time, but he didn’t expect that because Slaanesh couldn’t do such a big thing to punish him in reality, he was sure that he saw a Star God just now. The Star God and the main god of subspace are really difficult to deal with.
“Can you give me some clues?”
Trazin stepped forward to get close to this senior. He now suspected that his clone might not be safe even after his body died.
“Are you eyeing something related to him?”
“So, it seems…”
Trazyn began to think of the “He” the Emperor had spoken of.
That Him dyed a Forbidden Army pink, and he did have the idea of collecting pink Forbidden Army.
The Emperor solemnly reminded him that even the mere mention of that one’s name would cause Trazyn to die violently.
After thinking about it, Trazin began to ask this little senior for some information about Him.
Trazin didn’t expect to be able to beat him, he just needed to escape.
The courtesy was reciprocated, and the little evil god also began to introduce himself.
“He is a subspace master god who can walk in the real universe!
In order to escape from the clutches of His disciples, I had to change myself into what I am now, but His disciples seemed to be attacking me more fiercely.
He made the Emperor’s Children want to fight the Emperor, and He made the Astartes attack his Primarch with the most terrifying weapons in the galaxy.
He scorned Tzeentch, robbed the Goddess of Life in the Garden of Nurgle and locked her up here. He created forty-four world-destroying weapons, including an artificial Star God.
Even when joining forces with all the Chaos Gods, Khorne had to muster up the courage to take action against him!
Shaleshi Slaanesh even submitted a portrait of herself to Him, expecting His kindness.
He has incarnated into billions of people, overlooking the world in the Milky Way…”
Trazin’s hair stood on end as she listened.
Why does it mean that Khorne has to shake people before he can muster the courage to take action against him?
And what the hell is Slaanesh’s submission for a photo?
Is it too outrageous for the Lord of Subspace to rub his hands against the Star God?
Trazin no longer dared to listen. He raised his hand to stop this senior who dared to call the four main gods by their names.
“Enough! Enough! I don’t want to know so much!”
Trazin felt that her waist was injured and there was no need to stand up so straight.
He respectfully sought life for the person in front of him, and he also understood why there were so many fours. He had been guarding against six, seven, eight, and nine, and only now did he realize that this four was also the sacred number of the Lord of Chaos.
“This, I think it’s very simple. Look, doesn’t He like to paint the Forbidden Army pink?
Wouldn’t it be nice if you painted yourself pink? “
Rasta offered a bucket of pink paint.
This time it is not a blessing. If it is painted pink, it is just pink. Of course, it cannot be washed off.
Trazin looked at the bucket of paint with an overly familiar color and felt that something was wrong.
His senior began to remind him: “I can tell you, He has locked onto your consciousness. You have been on the ship for forty-two minutes now. If you haven’t painted pink within forty-four minutes, it’s hard to say…”
Trazin no longer cared about the issue of face and shame. He picked up the bucket and quickly applied it to himself, not sparing any corner.
As he was applying it, Trazin suddenly had an idea and blurted out.
“Then how do you know so much about Him?”
“I am He!”
“Uh-huh?!”
