Ark Undead

Nightmare Theresa took a deep breath.

"Can you smell it? The scent you know best, the scent that only appears in your dreams?"

Kal'tsit did not respond to her words; her gaze was already drawn to the words on the doors in the corridor.

Just as the nightmare Theresa had told her, Kal'tsit felt an inescapable sense of familiarity as soon as she arrived here.

Seeing that Kal'tsit ignored his words, the Nightmare was not in a hurry at all.

She even stretched and said slowly.

"This is the place you know best, and it's also the source of all your nightmares."

Will you find the answer here?

"my mother."

432. Please help me, Mother.

Everyone knows that Terra is a world that grew up on a colossal entity from the past.

Regardless of the country's history, traces of that past nation can be found in those dusty historical records.

It is ancient, yet advanced. Its strength, built upon countless technologies and talents, and its completely different interpretations of human life and morality, are all part of what makes up that ancient nation.

However, few people know that the Terra of today has absorbed the knowledge and technology of those countries.

Whether it's the use of Originium or the development of biotechnology.

To that nation, it all seemed like just a fraction of their power. Yet even this fraction was enough for the Terrans to change their social structure and create a completely new power system.

Kal'tsit had also wondered what kind of power that ancient, vanished kingdom possessed that could make her, even millions of years later, tremble.

The industrial traces found in the land, the social composition unearthed from the humanities.

Kal'tsit was constantly on guard.

Even a civilization so powerful that its boundaries are indistinct can vanish for some reason.

It may be a natural disaster, or it may stem from internal strife.

In short, it has vanished into thin air, becoming a grain of sand in the long river of history.

But she never even considered that this so-called history would have anything to do with her.

Kal'tsit reached out and brushed her hand across the tools on the lab table.

She picked up each surgical instrument gently, held it skillfully in her hand, used it a couple of times in the air, and then silently put it down.

It has been almost a thousand years since the last body was replaced.

Every so often, she has to find herself a new body that is compatible with her mental stability and prevents her from losing her way.

The old body becomes nourishment for the new body, turning into waste in the nutrient solution.

Kal'tsit only knew that she had to live like this, and her heart told her that she already had some kind of goal.

There must have been a goal.

But now, she can't say for sure.

Each time she changes bodies, her memories are worn down to some extent.

Kal'tsit remembered that her previous body belonged to a woman with Sarkaz characteristics, and she had lived in Kazdel for hundreds of years in that body.

She witnessed the rise and fall of Kazdel, saw the grand ambitions of the ancient kings, and chatted and laughed with the inheritors of the Twelve Courts.

However, that body was worn down at a rate far exceeding that of an ordinary person due to the erosion caused by the Originium.

It was for this reason that Kal'tsit held a body-changing ceremony somewhere in Iberia.

She used a body she found to change and adjust herself, transforming into the white-haired image that is now widely known among the operators.

And those countless bodies from the past, along with the powers she had wielded in the past, were all stuffed into the body of her symbiotic experimental subject, Mon3tor.

To be honest, it's really difficult for her to keep recalling the past.

She remembers who she met, but she has almost forgotten the details of those conversations.

She knew the road she had traveled would be very long, so long that ordinary people couldn't even see where they came from, but she couldn't see it either.

Kal'tsit stood there, gently stroking the bed in front of her, as if a switch had been flipped in her mind.

Memories that appeared out of nowhere filled her mind, ramming wildly through the palace of her brain.

She could only stand there, slowly piecing together her memories, finding the loose ends, and gradually untangling them.

"Do you remember? The child sleeping on this bed is the eldest in this room."

Theresa had somehow moved closer to Kal'tsit's back, and her hand slowly reached towards Kal'tsit's back.

“Every time you come to check on the children, there is always this one child huddled by the door, listening to the sounds outside. As soon as you hear your footsteps, the children immediately quiet down and lie quietly in bed.”

Her hand was only ten centimeters away from Kal'tsit's nape.

And it was this mere ten centimeters that was blocked by Mon3tor's sharp blade.

Mon3tor, emerging from the shadows, let out a low, warning growl, stopping Theresa from touching him further.

A shadow crossed Theresa's face, but she withdrew her hand without a care.

She has plenty of time.

"They call you Mom, Mother, dear Kal'tsit."

Theresa's voice softened, becoming as gentle and loving as that of the true king.

"But what about you? What have you done?"

The increasingly low voice caused the light in Kal'tsit's eyes to gradually dim, and the surrounding scenery and scenes kept changing in the darkness before finally lighting up again.

Now, what appears around the two of them is a small room.

The room was very simply furnished: a laboratory bed large enough for a person to lie on, and countless surgical instruments around it.

The styles of those props even exceeded people's imagination.

It was less of an experimental tool and more of a torture device.

It not only has small knives with serrated edges like saws, but also hammers for various purposes, as well as large scissors for opening shells and cutting skin.

The chair was even bound with extremely flexible ropes and straps.

"You treat life as a consumable to fulfill your own ambitions. You try to rebel against your innate mission and use your own hands to create creatures that deny your own existence."

“You treat them as props, wielding your brush on this operating table, ignoring their cries and pleas for mercy.”

"In your eyes, there is only a future that you cannot see clearly, and a dream so humble that you cannot see its light."

As Theresa spoke, a small figure suddenly appeared on the experimental bed in front of Kal'tsit.

The figure's face was obscured, and its race could not be discerned.

But in Kal'tsit's eyes, it was crying, shouting, and talking to itself.

"Mommy, it hurts! It hurts so much! My body feels like it's being torn apart, please don't tear my body apart anymore! My head, my head is going to explode!!"

The sound grew louder and more shrill, until it became a wailing sound that surrounded one's ears, then rose above all else and vanished into nothingness.

Faced with this scene, Kal'tsit still stared blankly at the experimental table in front of her, still trying to sort out the memories in her head, those disordered existences.

The scene before her eyes overlapped with the scene in her mind, gradually overwriting her consciousness, and those fragments of the past were randomly put together in this environment.

Kal'tsit trembled as she raised her right hand and braced it against the prop stand beside her.

Her eyes remained fixed on the operating table, watching the body that she should have vivid memories of gradually fall apart, then twist and turn in the black chaos.

Finally, they are pieced together again by inexplicable rules, and another incomprehensible cycle begins.

Even under such a gaze, Theresa's voice still echoed in Kal'tsit's ears.

"Now, take a good look and savor it."

“Oh, of course I didn’t mean to criticize you, dear Kal’tsit. You know I’m on your side, and I’ve had complete trust in you ever since you decided to become my advisor.”

"I'm just wondering, why would you forget? Forget everything you've done in the past?"

"Forget the memories on this ship, forget that cold-blooded self, forget your past as a child of the abyss?"

"You see, experiments always require sacrifices, you know that. So, what you did was wrong?"

"No, you have achieved your goal. Your children are now building a new kingdom on Terra."

"The humans you created have become the rulers of the new world, so why do you feel that these memories are painful?"

The sound gradually merged with the screams on the operating table, turning into meaningless murmurs that even Kal'tsit couldn't understand.

Amidst these mysterious and distorted words, Kal'tsit gradually came to understand the meaning of the whispers, and she began to transform into some peculiar state.

Mon3tor's body seemed to lose its support, and its surface color began to darken and gradually become transparent.

Kal'tsit remained propped up on the prop stand, her eyes never leaving the experimental bed.

The body bound and restrained on the experimental bed gradually solidified amidst the irregular twisting and turning, transforming into the familiar curves and shapes of Kal'tsit's body.

And Theresa's whispers continued.

“We, your children, are able to understand your every thought.”

"But we simply cannot do it, your grand vision, your determination to change the world."

"Look at what Terra has become!"

"The barriers between people are so obvious that the inability to understand each other's thoughts separates everything. Even the Tower of Babel, which tries to reach the heavens, falls apart because of your indecisiveness."

"Can you hear us? Our cries, the sinister laughs of those who have succeeded in their plot?"

"Can you see my lips as I fell in front of you?"

"Are you really going to remain indifferent to this? Or will you continue to resist the gift from the place of your birth, continue to be an enemy of your destiny, and an enemy of the offspring you have created?"

"Or become a true guide, using your own hands to control every thread, to dominate the course of history, to make children your helpers, and to shape the world into the way you envision it?"

At this moment, the body lying on the bed gradually regained its color.

It was as if she was being sculpted by an unseen hand, and the patterns on her body gradually became clear, with every line becoming real before Kal'tsit's eyes.