The two of them walked along the edge of the crystal platform, and the closer they got, the more intense the abnormal energy fluctuation became.
It was an indescribable hybrid frequency, containing the corroding noise unique to the Abyss, mixed with an older and more primitive rhythm.
Eliot noticed a subtle change in his companion’s state.
His breathing rhythm quickened, his gaze grew more alert, and his muscles tightened like bowstrings.
These slight changes might be imperceptible to the average person, but they were crystal clear to Eliot’s perception.
As they approached the northwest corner of the platform, the energy fluctuation became unusually intense.
The air was filled with a decaying and sweet scent, like honey smeared over rotten flesh.
This corner of the platform was surrounded by several colossal crystal pillars, forming a semi-enclosed space.
The red patterns on the crystal pillar surfaces were particularly active here, as if stimulated by something, constantly writhing, occasionally ejecting dark red liquid that left corrosive marks on the ground.
In the shadows, two twisted human forms were tightly entwined, resembling a constantly writhing mass of meat.
Their bodies were covered in purple-black tissue, occasionally extending tendril-like structures that probed the air.
Ripples occasionally appeared on the surface of this meat mass, like ripples on the surface of a liquid, but thicker and more viscous.
Some distorted faces could be vaguely seen within those ripples, mouths opening and closing in pain, yet unable to make a sound.
"Found it," the copy of Ron murmured, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly.
At that moment, the mass of meat abruptly stopped writhing, slowly turning towards their direction.
As it turned, Eliot finally saw the true nature of that mass—a symbiotic entity formed by the upper bodies of two humans connected by some kind of purple-black organic matter.
A male head and upper body extended from the left side, handsome yet with a sickly pallor;
The other was a female head and upper body extending from the right side, alluring in appearance but with a non-human cruelty in her gaze.
Their bodies beneath the chest merged into a continuously writhing mass of flesh, covered in tendrils and suction cup-like organs.
"It’s them...Oliver and Cynthia," Eliot exclaimed in shock, voice trembling with surprise as he recognized those two faces.
These two wanted fugitives were similarly documented in the Crystal Tower.
And just as recorded in the bounty information, they had completely transformed into some kind of terrifying anomaly.
The human traits were merely a thin facade, beneath which lay pure abyssal essence.
"Interesting," the copy of Ron said calmly, his hands casually hanging at his sides, but Eliot could sense the energy gathering inside him:
"So this is the handiwork of the ’Eye of the Abyss.’ Allowing the Awakened to infiltrate the Bloodline Altar, hoping to complete the final transformation. It seems they exploited some spatial vulnerability to find a way to infiltrate."
The two faces within the mass of flesh simultaneously turned towards the sound source, four eyes simultaneously fixed on the copy of Ron.
"Ron...Ralph..."
The two mouths spoke in unison, creating a chilling harmony:
"You...interrupted our transformation..."
Confusion appeared on Oliver’s face, his brows furrowed: "No...that’s not right...you’re not Ron..."
His eyes glinted with a black light, as if utilizing some special perception ability: "You’re just...a copy? But how could this be..."
"Certainly not him."
The copy chuckled lightly, voice laced with a kind of arrogant superiority: "I’m just his projection in this trial, a copy."
"Copy?" Cynthia sneered, her alluring face twisted into an unnatural angle:
"Then why can you have consciousness? Why can you act independently? What exactly are you?"
Her voice held suspicion and alertness, clearly aware that the presence before her was far more than an ordinary copy.
The copy of Ron didn’t answer, only slightly narrowed his golden-red eyes:
"Did you interrupt your transformation process to question me? Aren’t you afraid of failing at the final stage?"
"It’s too late..."
Oliver said, almost gritting his teeth:
"We sensed an unusually strong hostility, had no choice but to interrupt the transformation process. We thought Ron himself had come, only to find it’s just a copy."
His voice trembled with anger, and the mass’s surface black liquid also violently pulsated, creating waves.
"A wise choice."
The copy nodded, a barely perceptible smile hanging on his face:
"After all, the Awakened during transformation are the most vulnerable. Just like a snake shedding its skin, the old defense discarded, new protection not yet formed, during this time the Awakened are as fragile as newly hatched chicks."
Eliot stood aside, cold sweat pouring.
He could feel the nearly tangible hostility in the air, knowing that a fierce battle was about to erupt.
His ears kept twitching, capturing the energy fluctuations from all three sides, analyzing the possible future battle trajectory.
"We thought the real deal had come..." Cynthia’s voice rang out, carrying a hint of mockery amidst allure:
"Didn’t expect just a copy. Since that’s the case, using you as a practice target is not bad!"
A hint of frenzy flashed in her eyes, like a drug addict finally getting their long-awaited fix: