I Forged the Myth of Chapter 883 - 883 882. Psychic Attack

??Chapter 883: 882. Psychic Attack

Chapter 883: 882. Psychic Attack

For Plato, nuclear fusion was definitely unbearable.

He was a Saint on the verge of collapse in the Wasteland, how could he withstand a direct nuclear bomb?

Under the nearly self-destructive attack by Urukluqqa, the illusory Plato shattered like a bubble, evaporated by the fierce heat.

However, that was rely a projection of consciousness, not Plato himself.

Feeling astonished by this strike that exceeded human limits, Plato also sensed the energy and radiation it contained; if such an explosion occurred near Utopia or even within the city of Utopia, the consequences would be unimaginable.

The only solace he took was that it was man-made, not a natural disaster.

As long as there was an intervention of will, it was Plato’s domain.

His consciousness dispersed, covering the torrential rain in the desert like a vast net, where in the rain, countless cries of agony imdiately occupied Plato’s mind.

Those were the despair of dispatched soldiers, the pain of captured traveling rchants, and more, the indiscernible murmurs.

At the sa ti, Plato also detected that, amidst these murmurs, several voices were particularly jarring.

“Damn, impressive, it’s a nuclear bomb! Coach, I want to learn how to form a nuclear bomb!”

“Rather than forming a nuclear bomb, it might be better to rge first?”

“Eh, why have I beco two?”

“Fusion! I’ll form the head!”

The sa vocal tones were woven into different expressions, like a person with a split personality, possessing millions of consciousnesses and avatars, each fighting their own battle.

Plato extended his consciousness to probe into this individual’s inner world.

But soon, a noisy murmuring occupied all of Plato’s consciousness, causing him intense dizziness, as if being thrown from the height of ten thousand ters to the ground.

In the chair, Plato’s shriveled hand also grew blue-black fuzz which billowed in the wind, like seaweed in the ocean.

Countless blood vessels spread and bulged, creating eerie and complex patterns on Plato’s body, further deteriorating his already frail form.

He quickly regained his composure, avoiding the total disarray from the frantic murmurs of these millions of avatars.

“Who is this?”

Plato was surprised internally, but at the sa ti, he captured another will.

Compared to the chaotic will with millions of avatars, this new will was clearly more sane.

Plato was cautious this ti, probing bit by bit.

Soon, Plato found that this will, unlike the previous one, was not as chaotic, but still possessed a strong ntal shell, capable of resisting most ntal invasions and pollution.

However, for Plato, all this was breakable.

In the Saint’s eyes, countless illusory symbols erged, his view of the world underwent a radical transformation.

All forms were deconstructed, all concepts were manifested, in this new world, the nature of things was completely revealed.

This is the ideal world, the true world where all wills converge.

In this world, all things are only distinguished by concept, without form, individuality, or personality.

This is the most real world, while the real world in which people live is rely a false projection, due to human cognitive limits, most people can’t touch the ideal world, and can only be helplessly imrsed in the false world.

In this false world, the only thing humans could truly touch was knowledge.

Pure knowledge could help humans gradually get closer to the real world and sublimate oneself.

However, to people in the real world, those getting closer to the real world appeared strange, insane, and beyond redemption—an inherent sorrow of humanity, a limitation of those whose cognitive scopes were confined.

Yet, Plato could glimpse such a world.

After countless things obscuring his vision had been swept away, Plato accurately discovered the core of that will.

In an instant, a giant of thought rose from the ground, towering over the Earth.

He moved toward that shimring flow of will, enveloping it.

Then, all was laid bare.

At the sa ti, amid the Torrential Rain.

Urukluqqa felt a slight tremor within his heart.

It was like an elusive premonition of danger that lingered in his mind. Urukluqqa’s eyes darted about, searching for the source of this crisis.

The next mont, Urukluqqa trembled all over.

He shook as if sothing had seized his lifeline, his spirit beginning to disperse as his past flashed before his eyes like scenes in a slideshow.

A strong wave of fatigue struck Urukluqqa, he longed to rest for a while, close his eyes, and never bother with the troubles and sorrows of this world again.

However, soon, the well-trained Octopus Man uncovered this conspiracy.

As a well-trained warrior, naturally, he had encountered many ntal attack techniques. Thus, after a brief confusion, he discovered that his consciousness had been invaded.

Urukluqqa imdiately activated his defense chanisms.

In a flash, his thoughts projected multiple separate ideas, each fragnting into individual parts, with the most core self hidden in the deepest reaches of his consciousness.

This was a passive self-defense chanism developed by the Octopus Man against ntal attacks—dividing the thoughts so that even if a part was polluted or invaded, the invader would remain isolated, unable to completely contaminate Urukluqqa.

At that mont, in Plato’s view, a colossal maze of thought stood before him.

This labyrinth had countless rooms and paths, hiding nurous dangers. To venture deep hastily would not only require a lot of ti but also risk encountering perils. Once entering areas laden with traps, even one’s ntal state might suffer damage.

Yet, as Plato and Urukluqqa battled, the body of the Octopus Man entered a state akin to hibernation.

He was covered with a thin but hard exoskeleton, strong enough to withstand the impact of a nuclear blast. Urukluqqa sank into the water, silently struggling against this unknown adversary.

While he focused on this, beside Urukluqqa, a bit of flesh gathered.

The flesh quickly took on a human shape, occasionally clustering and dispersing as if debating which pieces should form particular body parts.

Before long, this flesh took on the appearance of Lu Ban.

Lu Ban looked at the “eggshell” in front of him and first tapped it.

Discovering that it produced a crisp sound, much like Stone.

Lu Ban tried conventional thods and found that its hardness was rather extraordinary, and its elasticity quite remarkable. If this material could be replicated, many technologies in human society could likely see considerable advancents.

Although bio-environntal materials were a specialty pitfall, one had to admit that materials still truly restricted most technological advancents.

Lu Ban thought for a mont and decided to try sothing new.