1155 The Research Race
The Chimaeric Demons got their brain crystals when Erik modified the Astral Wolf and rged it with the brain crystal power.
Instead of creating the giant mana wolf, Erik asked the biological supercomputer to make a mana brain crystal.
It wasn't anything physical; it was sothing that couldn't be found in their brains. It was just a lump of mana that worked exactly like the real deal, but with so differences.
The problem was that to maintain and use all that mana was not as straightforward as for humans. Mana was not a simple substance. It was intangible, impossible to see.
It behaved like a gas, like a liquid, even like a solid. The first ti it appeared, people had no idea what it was, and they only learned of their presence after the first brain-crystal-equipped human appeared, and that only by feelings.
It took a while for people to understand, more or less, what they were dealing with.
The Astral brain crystal wasn't optimized to make the sa substance composing it flow because the thing itself wasn't exactly a brain crystal.
The neural links themselves were not as stable as those inside a person's brain. It was like building an unstable bridge over unstable land. All of this made making new ones extrely hard and slow for the Chimaeric Demons.
That was why Erik needed a new technique. The one they got from Erik was fast and powerful, but it was still too slow for the clones, especially considering how strong the enemy was growing. Since the clones had to work, had to fight, had to explore, and had to spy, the ti needed for them to train was too little.
Erik asked. The biological supercomputer had a perfect mory. It knew what it said.
Erik sighed. Erik said, mimicking the biological supercomputer AI voice.
The biological supercomputer's imaginary face got a blank look. Then it turned embarrassed.
The system paused again. It was almost as if it was trying to avoid answering Erik.
The system ntally sighed. In truth, it wasn't trying to avoid answering, but it was for sure hard.
"Fuck…"
A Chimaeric Demon halted mid-step, his head tilting as he turned to watch Erik. Confusion radiated from the face behind the mask. Erik's movent was odd—andering, uncharacteristic. He wasn't striding with the earlier purpose but was instead wandering without direction.
Erik walked, his head bowed, the edges of his cloak trailing along the uneven terrain. His thoughts were elsewhere, buried deep in so labyrinth that none of his clones could penetrate. He was silent.
Yet none of the clones dared break the silence or approach him despite them having things to discuss and countless issues to resolve: orders to clarify, strategies to execute.
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