Chapter 607 The First Meeting Between the Three of the Miracle and Her Is
The first meeting between her and him was...
-
In the evening of wandering the harbor, the pilgrims lit the candles in their hands and began to pray. The square of Saint-Persiam looked like tender stars.
In a small building behind the restaurant in St. Piazza Restaurant, a gentle filtered airflow maintains the humidity of the room in the most suitable range, slightly cold but suitable for breathing.
The large mirror on the sideboard was spotlessly wiped, reflecting the last ray of warm orange light from the artificial sun.
A handful of fragrant white wild lilies are inserted in the crystal vase in front of the mirror. Their retro plant shape and freshness indicate that they are likely from the newly built Central Park hills.
The artificial breeze blew across the gauze curtain, and a girl was dreaming on the bed behind her.
Her dreams are not gentle, but rich and colorful.
Purple, indigo or other colors?
The sub-space tide that was changing brilliantly at a moment faster than thinking is screaming, but why does the tide scream at such a high frequency?
No, no, she suddenly realized that every gem scale and the sparkling fibers on each colorful feather were soul faces with open mouths screaming silently towards the greedy darkness.
The vague guttural voice was filled with wild, primitive and unordered enthusiasm.
The colorful dark tide was devouring them, it was like she looked down and found herself sitting on a drifting cliff. The cliff was very high and she was safe for the time being, but when she looked down, she saw that the cliff was holding her and the bottom of her feet. The tide inevitably moves slowly but unchangeably towards the distance.
She realized that the end of this long moving end, and she was trance that the end of all souls was the charming and colorful vortex just now.
But when she rubbed her eyes and tried to see carefully what that was, she saw the enamel that was so huge that she was so shiny that she hung the sweet juice that the soul was chewed and splashed out, so it was dyed pink The white enamel and the huge pink below are—
The dry and neat ivory white linen sheets were unconsciously clutched, wrinkled and torn by slender fingers. The cold sweat that kept ejaculated soaked the carefully cushioned towels behind her head and under her back. Her skin was so tough, but she would be because of The fabric frowned as the tactile texture she was used to.
The captive of the Spirit Clan felt that her head was so painful. She still hadn't walked out of the maze of nightmare. Every pore on her body was oozing into the air with the residue of past memories:
The dancers of the Silver Palace giggled and stretched out their veils to try to wrap around her wrists and ankles, let her dance with them and dance the endless dance, Prince of Joy and his favorite Lord or his favorite My laughter is soft but like ten thousand crystal needles filled with anesthetics. Everything is irreversible after you accept them flowing into your blood vessels and even your heart;
The dazzling and exaggerated clown smile flashed through the shattered crystal prism, and hundreds of pieces at the end of the mirror passage turned to her, reflecting the sinister face of the Supreme Overlord - Victor's sharp blade is coming from The consul of a conspiracy group who died with an eye vented, and the ruler of Comoros raised his eyes from under his twisted black crown and stared at her coldly and sharply.
When a huge worm nest overlord fell, the splashing blood and dust made her squint her eyes, and then the dance of the dead, which was intertwined by the succubus and the priestess, intertwined by her side. The tip of her nose chills, and the sickle of the god of death who had not yet woken up swept across her eyelashes. In the next blink, she saw her broken head being stepped into the dirty blood pool of the ground by her former colleagues. The collective intoxicated climax was suddenly whispering around her. The passion fermented terrifyingly...
Another severe pain from the depths of her brain tore the dark spiritual girl's continuous shattering and high-hot dream, forcing her to emerge from the mellow essence of her delicious pain and remove her perception from In a completely different strange environment:
Too stable, too clean, too simple, too... not as exquisite as she is used to.
She took a deep breath of the air mixed with fresh plants and sunshine that Comoros would never have, and then made a perfect attacking preparatory posture before she fully woke up.
Her hands were empty as she tried to hold the familiar dagger handle, and then she realized that the weight on her head was wrong: her long hair was untied when she was unconscious, and now they were strands stuck together. On the pillowcase of the large size pillow, she still didn't remember her name, but her remaining instincts made her immediately make a basic judgment on her current body and environment.
She felt that the wounds that penetrated her chest and abdominal cavity had been stitched by a rough but accurate butcher. Although there were still many inaccurate reverse cycles, at least she could start to recover, and the wounds on her head were Covered by some kind of primitive medical gel, the outside is covered with artificial skin and pressure nets, and sterilized, at least her brain is not at risk of flowing out now.
In addition to the fragile and slightly poisonous plant pheromone in the air with a temperature of twenty-four degrees, there was also a smell of engine oil and genetically modified primitive people that made her frown in unhappy.
It was then that she realized that she was staying in the bed of a genetically modified male monkey who might have belonged to a low-level race, the blanket with obvious inferior race perfume and a faint gland smell on the monkey's body. A corner was still hanging on her hips - a moment ago, she should have been lying straight on the bed and pillow, covering the blanket.
She lowered her head, and her entire delicate face shrank--her own underwear was now covered with a wide, ill-fitting blue and white striped fabric, divided into tops and pants, with buttons all the way from below the waist. It's above the clavicle, although it feels a little restrained, it doesn't affect her actions at the moment - that's enough.
As she kicked hard away the thin velvet blanket embroidered with the skull-shaped emblem, her milky white skin surface had a burst of goose bumps of disgust at the fabric that had just given her warmth.
And the moment her naked soles touched the ground, the unique primitive feeling of the wooden ground made her pause again.
Then she raised her pointed ears.
The sound of footsteps moving came from the second room from the right.
Although she didn't know why she was familiar with this sound, some instinct or residual knowledge told her that it was the unique movement sound of the pottery steel combat boots, mixed with the extremely slight buzzing of the servo motor.
It is a genetically modulated soldier invented by the corpse of monkeys, or in their language, Astart. The levels of these big soldiers are uneven, with strong and weak strength, and some will be blessed, which will probably be slightly more difficult to kill - a fragmented message passed through her mind.
The moving footsteps in the room were completely unconcealed. The movement was so loud that it could awaken the stupidest synthetic beast. Obviously, the owner of the footsteps was very comfortable here.
But what makes her muscles tight is that she can hear other sounds, such as the sound of footsteps, the scorching of the skin-skinned muscles or the flamethrower falling full of freshness The sizzling sounds made on the limbs.
Her iris contracted and unfolded, and some instincts from the unknown past began to thaw: by the second second she had removed one of the legs of the steel lamp holder as a curved dagger, and the medical alcohol at the head of the bed was at the eleventh second When she was collected and placed by the window, she was ready to be a small mechanism to attract attention. Finally, her eyes turned, and found the most suitable offensive route and approached her silently and elegantly like a strong-brained cat. The door was just a lightly hidden.
The smell of flame torture inside was even stronger. There are also some witchcraft rituals of incense burning and the oil in the sacrifice are roasted to the melting rich and smoky fat-charred smell.
When she reached the last step, a spasm suddenly came from her ribs. A small string of bright red blood beads burst out from the wound where she had been wrongly sutured. But for her, the pain can be used well to make her even more deadly She extracted combat hormones from it and distributed them to every muscle and nerve, as precisely as she used to study and train.
...Where did she get trained in the past?
She hurriedly cleared this unnecessary question from her mind, pressed against the wall, stretched out one hand, and quietly pushed open the door.
There is indeed an Astate inside.
And he was now facing her, stirring a suspicious-looking soup pot, his shoulder-plate carved with an ode to a certain Great Primrose reflected an unnatural rainbow light, causing the voyeur to squint again The main reason for re-finding the attack direction is that although he seems to be full of flaws, he is in a state of complete harmony.
Her instinct intuition tells her that if this harmonious equilibrium is broken, some unpredictable rebound danger may occur.
At this moment, Asatte spoke with his back to her.
"Oh...unbehaved patient, my lady under ward, this is not where you should come."
While speaking, the Astat, who was busy performing some mysterious ritual in front of the flames, turned around.
The captives of the spirit tribe frowned and were even more unhappy to find that although this face belonged to a monkey she thought was inferior and obviously with a crude and inferior genetic engineering, the eyes looked at her. At times, she has a naive charm that even she cannot deny.
"This pointy ear lady, you stepped on my...recipe."
One solemnly raised the spatula of dripping vegetable soup, the other raised the legs of the iron lamp, and at the same time made an attacking gesture—
"Warning between both sides is strictly prohibited during custody! Waste food is strictly prohibited during dinner time!"
No mistakes, one song, one content, one in 6, one book, one bar, one reading!
A servo skull descended from the ceiling, staring at them, playing warnings, and a new hymn written by the palace chief Master Rilano for the morning and evening prayer time of wandering the port.
As the overcooked grass roots, leaves and badly scorched meat poured into her respiratory organs, she suddenly realized that there was no real killing in the smell of this handsome primitive man, and that he was actually cooking, she was too unaccustomed to it , so that it would not be so conclusive at the first time - in Comoros, even the cooking flames will be soaked in the sweet and terrifying blood.
"So can we wait for me to finish cooking and then sit down to eat?" The hateful handsome monkey opposite showed her a sparkling smile of four teeth just right, "The primordials all say that people are iron, and rice is steel. , every meal must be eaten on time if possible."
———————
"Well... since it's so late, I'd better not call poor Tavitz. He has been smoky recently and his facial skin looks at least a hundred years older! I'll understand He. ——Besides, I can handle it all because I am the best swordsman Lucius of all time!”
The kitchen stove quickly made of engineered ceramic steel was steaming with ominous white mist, and Lucius's beautiful anti-gravity metal silk cloak was blown by the roar of the high-performance air suction pump.
Twelve units were purchased by Lucius privately (using tips, don't ask who gave the tips and where they were placed. Tips will automatically refresh the power sword in Lucius with various materials and forms. On the belt with the thigh belt, he swears to everyone that he doesn't know what's going on, but it's true) The servo skull is divided into four groups suspended at various angles in the kitchen, using them with the mechanical eyes with the image recording function from All angles record this cooking ceremony cooked by Lucius himself.
"It is evidenced by Lord Ramizane's latest publication of "The Ninth Edition of Dietary Health Book of Residents in the Port and Surrounding Areas"!"
The power sword of the former Emperor's son passed by a cutting board made of composite armor plates. The perfect blade instantly split the composite reproductive organs of the Brassica genus Brassica family, which is larger than a human head, into completely equal Sixty-four copies.
"My cutting of this batch of vitamins and dietary fiber carriers is so perfect today! It didn't even destroy any excess cell walls, and according to Lord Ramizane, it should have a good effect on your recovery."
The sharp ears of the Dark Eldar Captain shook above her new monitoring and positioning collar. She frowned and used the tips of her filed nails to pick up three fresh red berries from the Solanaceae family to spiral them on the tips of her fingertips. The scarlet juice sputtered out of the berries she split out like a scorpion tail needle, but was taken away by a salad bowl made of armored glass before splashing onto the kitchen floor and Astart's power armor. .
This made her frown her slender eyebrows in extreme discomfort.
"I don't like eating your so-called healthy dietary salad, monkey. I need more fresh blood, pain and other purer things to get back to health!"
"You woke up yesterday and had already drunk two liters of blood-stirred wine."
The former son of the emperor replied, "Those wines are the best new wines produced in Wanyougang last year. I bought them with my personal quota. And I have been feeding you with the patient porridge made according to Lord Ramizane's instructions. You did recover, and if you want to deny this, just lie back and chisel your head again. "He spits out a word in the most elegant and polite tone, "Bichi."
"The sad lowly and lowly primitive man needs to act according to your imaginary gods at all times."
She was not displeased with this, but muttered to turn the topic away in a way that was absolutely gentle to a dark elves. Her light and flexible body stretched like a spirit cat, her toes were light, and her whole body was like a ghost. Slide to the huge freezer, "Real artists will use pain to season - such as peeling off your iron sheet and then finely cutting out beautiful lines of your skin... Listening to your moans and eating, It will increase my appetite and heal faster."
"And - you monkeys call this cooking?" The captives of the spirits suddenly turned and kicked over the dressing rack, and dozens of spices turned into smoke in the air to confuse the defenders. "In the great Comoros, we feed the slaves The feed they eat is more creative than this!
A cluster of blue and purple sparks suddenly burst out from the pottery steel stove, and the shadows of the two intertwined into a war mural between Astat and the Dark Eldar in the reflection of the mirror.
The kitchen is a great place to meet for the first time.