Lorenzo asked.
"No, we wore the armor made by demons."
Tesla said.
Imdiately, a heavy heartbeat resounded upon the Armor of Original Sin.
An indescribable pressure suddenly intensified, and at that mont, the Geiger counters lining the well walls all turned a dangerous blood red. They chid together, like a flock of crows circling this deep well, lanting mournfully.
This ti it truly awakened, cold blood began to flow slowly, its dormant heartbeat like a war drum.
"It hasn't completely died."
Lorenzo couldn't help but grip his Staff Sword tighter, as if he might draw the blade at any second.
Demons have strong vitality; to ensure its death, one must destroy the brain and heart. Yet now the heartbeat emanates from this armor, the heartbeat of a demon.
"Yes, we need the demon alive. Only when it's alive can the flesh continue to grow, and only then can the robust muscles drive the armor under the engine's power."
"You're playing with fire."
"It has beco controllable, at least for now."
Tesla seed unconcerned and continued.
"We completely removed the demon's brain and used life-preserving thods to keep its heart functioning. When the engine turns, the frozen life reawakens. So, essentially, it's a demon wearing armor, but we dictate the will of this body."
He pointed to his own head, smiling at Lorenzo.
"We will replace the demon's brain to drive it; the nerves will connect, and the heavy armor will be as agile as a swallow. However, at the sa ti, our degree of corruption will deepen."
He glanced at Red Falcon and Joey, unsure if it was due to the corruption or their "fortunate" status as drivers, their faces were pale.
"Initially, we experinted on death row inmates, but most went insane inside the armor, losing control. Even those who stabilized were like idiots, staring blankly, unable to provide any useful information."
"That's when we need you, Mr. Hols, to stabilize the trics."
The engine noise began to weaken, the writhing flesh gradually stopped, and finally, like entering a slumber, it shriveled back. All the panels closed once again, the lit indicators went out one by one, and the heartbeat disappeared; the armor before them seed dead once more.
Like a sealed coffin, the soul that was about to break free was dragged back again.
"What you're seeing is just the first-generation model. After years of research, we've optimized it significantly. With the advancent of chanics, we're gradually reducing the demon's proportion. If possible, we'd like to make it entirely chanical."
Tesla waved his hand, appearing sowhat helpless.
"Of course, this hope is slim. To achieve this requires finding a super material to replace the demon, but it's seemingly impossible with modern craftsmanship."
Lorenzo didn't say much, just watched as the Armor of Original Sin was dragged back into the container, lifted onto the track, and swallowed into the gate, once again stored in the dark.
"So I have to find an Armor of Original Sin to try on?"
"Yes, but forget about New Hope. It's rely educational material. It has essentially been abandoned by ti, like an exhibit in a museum. Mr. Hols, what you need to use is the Second Generation Armor. However, few Second Generation Armors are in service currently, and several of those available are undergoing maintenance."
Tesla turned toward the sealed door and continued.
"So first we must conduct tests for everyone to see the extent of your corruption."
As the words fell, a curtain of water rained down from the do, not intense, but covering every corner of the venue.
Joey and Red Falcon froze, initially thinking these lunatics finally burst the pipes, showering them with water from the Thas River.
"That's not a leak; it's Neutralizing Liquid. It's a standard procedure after any experintal project involving corrosion."
Clearly, Tesla anticipated what these people were thinking, adding.
The tightly closed door slowly opened, leading who knows where, and on the high platform of the well walls, bathed in the ceiling's strong light array, it appeared as a pitch-black silhouette from below, impossible to discern what lay above.
"The initial contact seems alright."
rlin, under the shower of Neutralizing Liquid, slightly drenched his gray-white robe.
"Have you really decided to do this? To let a Demon Hunter wear the Armor of Original Sin, locking one potentially out-of-control monster with another potentially out-of-control monster?"
The person asked sowhat puzzledly, his experiences of the nightmare left him deeply fearful.
"It's truly dangerous, but unavoidable. We don't have much ti, and despite the risks, we must proceed. After all, you don't want your tragedy to befall others, do you, Galahad?"
Galahad glanced at rlin, his initial handso appearance long gone, his complexion sickly pale, his fra emaciated.
During the operation in the Underground Palace, Galahad lost control after using the Armor of Original Sin. Fortunately, it was properly handled without causing severe trouble. Even so, this once sunny and resolute Knight Commander turned into the ghostly figure he is today.
"When you lost control, you were severely corrupted. We almost had to perform a frontal lobotomy on you."
Later, rlin visited Galahad at the Perpetual Motion Pump; this poor Knight Commander ca infinitely close to the third stage of corruption. His spine, connecting to the armor's nerves, began mutating, and they perford over a dozen surgeries to save his life.
"If they had done it, perhaps it would've been better than being this inhuman, ghostly figure."
Galahad said sowhat indifferently.
rlin remained silent, then sighed deeply.
"Sotis the gap between people is really significant."
Galahad looked down into the deep well and said slowly.
"I'm healthier than Lancelot, stronger than him. Yet, before the armor's invasion, I'm incredibly frail, while he manages to harness it perfectly... Do you think it's a matter of willpower, rlin?"
rlin paused, confronted with such a question, then said.
"Do you know, in the Far East, Jiuxia has a term called 'obsession'."
"Obsession?"
"Yes, obsession. In their stories, obsession is an intriguing thing. In many legends, people don't die. They are trapped by their obsessions, refusing to die until their goals are achieved... or rather, they can't completely die, like ghosts, lingering in the world."
"Sounds like the Evangelical Church's spiritual fanaticism."
"But don't you find it tragic? Even in death, they refuse peace, striving to crawl back into the world of mortals to complete their unfinished business."
rlin pulled the nearby lever; the platform slowly descended with a rumble. Amidst the noise, he continued, his voice sowhat distant.
"Lancelot is such a person. For that goal, even corruption cannot conquer him, he will never yield."
At this, rlin smiled slightly.
"If not for the secrecy rules, I'd really wish you two could et."
"So he's a real person, not so inspirational fabrication you concocted?"
Galahad questioned with so skepticism.
Much like the legends circulated within the Purification chanism, no one truly saw Lancelot. Not even Galahad, a fellow Knight Commander, could. You might hear broadcasts of his joining combat sequences, and see the blue-hued armor charging across battlefields, but you would never see what's beneath the armor, as if only a ghost were steering it.
Only those in power seem to know Lancelot's true identity, such as rlin before him.
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