At her words, the Early Creatures looked at each other, and then four of them detached from the group and headed deeper into the labyrinth, their expressions grim.
Noah paid them only a passing glance. His gaze was fixed on the glass structure behind the Commander.
Within its transparent walls, held in place by radiant white attachments, were... armors.
Unfinished, skeletal backbones of the very same design as the Justiciar that had annihilated Aeternitas Glacies!
There were dozens of them, displayed like anatomical models in a museum of death!
|[Living Existential Armor – Model J-7 (Justiciar)] - Incomplete.|
|[Living Existential Armor – Model V-3 (Vindicator)] - Incomplete.|
|[Living Existential Armor – Model P-9 (Purifier)] - Incomplete.|
His eyes blazed with a cold, intense light. So, this was where they were made.
The Fold Dweller, Elara, raised her brows, shaking her head as if to scold a curious child.
"You are moving too fast, Elderborn," she said, her tone sharp and impatient. "First, we have to verify your status. So... let us see if you can manipulate the Early Omnichalcum Metal. If you aren’t even able to do this... we can be rid of you even quicker."
WAA!
At her words, Noah finally turned his full attention to her.
She walked towards a massive, silver table that stood at the center of the clearing. Upon it rested a cluster of pristine, stellar white metal, its surface so pure it seemed to have no reflection.
"This," she said, gesturing to the metal with a proprietary air, "is Early Omnichalcum. A primordial metal that contains a high concentration of the enriched, leftover Everythings of THE Creature. To most, it is a useless, inert chunk of matter, completely unresponsive to any authority. But to an Elderborn..."
A faint, challenging smile touched her lips. "An Elderborn, with their unique connection to THE Creature’s essence, should be able to manipulate it, to cause a reaction with their own authority. So, let us see. Are you a genuine article, or just another defective model?"
...!
Was he genuine, or was he defective?
The question hung in the sterile, silent air of the Early Laboratories, a clinical assessment that held the weight of a death sentence!
Commander Elara stood with her arms crossed, her expression a mask of impatient, professional scrutiny.
On the silver table between them, the pristine, stellar white cluster of Early Omnichalcum Metal seemed to absorb the very light of the room, a silent, waiting judge.

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