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qwekobo

In a world of trackless jungles, colossal beasts, and cruel pre-human civilizations, you must survive the past if you want to save the future! You were only meant to guard the laboratory, but when a treacherous power cripples Doctor Sabbatine's time machine, you're left stranded! Face the savage inhabitants of Silverworld and build your own civilization—or plunder the past and return home unimaginably rich!

HUGUEL_0568 · Ciudad
Sin suficientes valoraciones
275 Chs

66

The administrator seems ready to launch into a speech when you step around him and stare confidently up at the Apostolic Mound. Conversation around the Mound drifts to a halt, and you feel its attention turn toward you, its huge blue eyes forming pupils to regard you better.

The Apostolic Mound opens its huge, dripping mouth, and to your total surprise, it addresses you in fluent Koiné.

"Ah, Crowchar Tenochtes—or perhaps I should say Crowchar of Mexihco, as that is how Dr. Sabbatine addressed you in her letter—I am pleased that you survived the journey here and the attack of the feathered apes, who have grown more vicious and organized since the appearance of the False Icon in the skies above our world," the Apostolic Mound says. "I suppose you have many questions."

You do, but before you can formulate one, the Apostolic Mound holds up one jeweled finger and says, "But first, in order to facilitate your communion with the doctor after so many exhausting conversations across space and time, I must regain my strength."

The Mound addresses Therko, the bureaucrat, who hastens away and orders a huge wooden door opened. After much rope-and-pulley work, the door opens to reveal two aged but still powerful Guardians leading an elephant. The elephant has been painted much like the Guardians and anointed with scented oils, the smell of which waft in your direction.

Therko and the Guardians bow and withdraw. The elephant kneels before the Apostolic Mound, which regards it thoughtfully for a second, then picks it up with both hands and crams it into its dripping mouth. The painted elephant vanishes without a sound. There is a great deal of chewing.

"This cannot be real," Stralchus says, to the annoyance of the warriors who catch the tone of his words. Keimia, beside him, seems lost—or trapped—in dark thoughts, while Vecla watches the goings-on with a philosopher's curiosity. Control's many expressions reveal hope and eagerness, even impatience.