I created the myth of the Great Old Ones.

Plato said.

"Yes, the rainwater is polluted, and you want to stop it?"

Beside him, his friend Hippocrates asked.

"I'm nearing my end. The power of the sage has blocked those crystals, but it can't grant immortality. If I make a move now, I'll probably age rapidly. I might not even have a day left, let alone three days."

Plato sighed.

He knew his own body well. It was only with the blessing of extraordinary power that he was able to have a long lifespan, but now, everything had come to an end, and his days were numbered.

Sometimes, Plato even envied ordinary people.

They thought saints lived long lives, but they failed to see that Plato would always have to send off those companions who failed to become saints.

Over the past century, all those who were once familiar with him have passed away, leaving him all alone.

“If you die now, Utopia will be missing a saint, and I cannot guarantee that the next ‘Plato’ will be right.”

Hippocrates said.

He glanced at Plato's arm. Beneath his clothes, decay had long since taken over the flesh. The corrosive effects of pollution had rendered Plato's internal organs dysfunctional, turning them into a breeding ground for decay. The fact that he could still stand here and speak was due not only to Hippocrates' medical skills but also, and perhaps more importantly, to his own willpower.

The more the power of the saint is used, the more severe the erosion will become. When the pollution reaches its limit, the will will collapse and eventually return to dust, while the soul will become the sustenance of utopia, allowing it to exist forever.

"I believe everyone will make the right choice."

Plato said he was unsure whether the person who bore his name in his time had similar thoughts when he wrote that great work.

He longed for the era of reason and freedom that the other party proclaimed.

A sharp pain shot through him, causing Plato to slump into his chair. His abdomen writhed as if worms were about to burst forth from his body.

“My time is running out, old friend. Gather all the candidates. I need to find a successor by today.”

He sent Hippocrates to find the successors of those saints, while he himself sat in his chair, gazing at the deep green storm.

His lips twitched, and Plato's facial expressions shifted, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing wildly, and sometimes as pure and innocent as a child.

The next moment, Plato opened his eyes wide.

Some force beyond time propelled his will into the sky, into the torrential rain.

His physical body withered rapidly, his muscles atrophied, his bones became exposed, and his eyes became sunken, transforming him from a handsome elder, like a classical Greek sculpture, into a dying old man on the verge of death.

The Gene Era

At the same time, his will grew stronger and stronger. High in the sky, Plato was like a giant. He came above the dark clouds and looked at the lightning and thunder.

Plato saw Uruk swimming in the water, and his keen intuition convinced him that this was the culprit behind the polluted storm.

Plato reached out his hand, his five fingers spread wide.

His hand pierced through the dark clouds of the thunderstorm, covering the space around Uruk.

bang——

A huge wave surged up, completely engulfing the octopus-man.

Just as Plato was trying to use his strength to grab it, a dazzling light burst forth from his palm.

The scorching waves pierced his palms, and the dazzling light stung Plato's eyes.

Another mushroom cloud rose up.

Chapter 882 Mental Attack

For Plato, nuclear fusion was definitely unsustainable.

He was a saint on the verge of extinction in the wilderness; how could he possibly withstand a nuclear bomb head-on?

Under Uruk's near-self-destructive attack, the illusory Plato shattered like a bubble, evaporated by the intense heat.

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

While being stunned by this attack that surpassed the limits of human capability, Plato also sensed the energy and radiation contained within it. If such an explosion were to occur near Utopia, or even within the city of Utopia, the consequences would be unimaginable.

His only consolation was that it was man-made, not a natural disaster.

Wherever there is the intervention of will, it is Plato's domain.

His consciousness scattered, like a large net covering the rain-soaked desert, and in the rain, countless wails instantly filled Plato's mind.

Those were the despair of the dispatched soldiers, the anguish of the captured traveling merchants, and many more, barely audible murmurs.

At the same time, Plato also discovered that several voices in this rambling were extremely jarring.

"Holy crap, that's amazing! It's a nuclear bomb! Coach, I want to learn how to make a nuclear bomb!"

"Wouldn't it be better to fuse them together first rather than making a nuclear bomb?"

"Huh? How did I become two?"

"Merge! I'll form the head!"

The same voices intertwined to form different words, just like a person with a split personality, possessing thousands of consciousnesses and clones, each fighting its own battle.

Plato extended his consciousness into the past, attempting to peer into the man's mind.

But soon, a noisy murmur took over Plato's entire consciousness, and he felt a strong sense of dizziness, as if he had been thrown to the ground from a height of 10,000 meters.

On the chair, Plato's withered hands were covered with bluish-black down, which fluttered in the wind like seaweed.

Countless blood vessels spread and bulged, forming strange and complex patterns on Plato's body, making his already fragile body even more dilapidated.

He managed to regain his composure in time, preventing his soul from being scattered by the frenzied ramblings of his countless clones.

"Who is this?"

Plato was surprised, but at the same time, he also sensed another will.

Compared to that chaotic will with its millions of clones, this new will is clearly more rational.

This time, Plato did not invade rashly, but probed the area little by little.

Soon, Plato discovered that this will was not as chaotic as the previous one, but it still had a powerful spiritual shell, enough to resist most spiritual invasions and contamination.

However, for Plato, all of this could be overcome.

In the eyes of this sage, countless illusory symbols appeared, and the world he saw underwent a dramatic transformation.

All forms are deconstructed, all concepts are revealed, and in this new world, the essence of things is laid bare.

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

In this world, everything is distinguished only by concepts, not by physical entities, individuals, or individual differences.

This is the most real world, while the real world in which people live is nothing but a projection of illusion. Due to the limitations of human cognition, most people cannot access the ideal world and can only indulge in the false world without being able to extricate themselves.

In this illusory world, the only thing that humans can truly access is knowledge.

Pure knowledge can help people gradually approach the real world and elevate themselves.

But to people in the real world, these humans who are close to the real world seem strange, crazy, and hopeless. This is the tragedy of humanity, the limitation of human beings whose cognitive scope is restricted.

But Plato was able to glimpse such a world.

After countless obscuring elements were swept away, Plato accurately discovered the core of that will.

In an instant, a giant of thought rose from the ground and stood tall on the earth.

He flowed toward that shining will, enveloping it.

Then, its brilliance was fully revealed.

Meanwhile, in the midst of a torrential downpour.

Urukuk felt a tremor run through his heart.

As if a faint sense of crisis lingered in his mind, Urukluk's eyes darted around, searching for the source of the crisis.

The next moment, Urukk trembled all over.

He trembled as if something had seized his lifeline, his mind began to wander, and the past flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

A wave of intense drowsiness washed over Uruk. He longed to rest for a while, close his eyes, and never again concern himself with the troubles and sorrows of the world.

But soon, the well-trained octopus-men discovered the conspiracy.

As a well-trained soldier, he had naturally been exposed to many forms of mental attacks. Therefore, after a brief period of confusion, he discovered that his consciousness had been invaded.

Uruk immediately activated its defense mechanisms.

In an instant, his thoughts were projected, and several different ideas were separated into independent parts, among which the core self was hidden in the deepest part of his consciousness.

This is a passive self-defense mechanism developed by the octopus people to deal with mental attacks. It splits the mind into separate parts, so that even if a part is contaminated or invaded, the other party will only remain in this isolated area and will not be able to completely contaminate Uruk.

At this moment, in Plato's view, a huge labyrinth of thought stood before him.

This maze has countless rooms and countless paths, concealing countless dangers. Venturing in rashly will not only take a lot of time, but also easily lead to danger. Once you enter those areas full of traps, you may even suffer mental and physical damage.

However, as Plato and Uruk engaged in their battle, the octopus-man's body fell into a state of near-dormant.

He was surrounded by a thin but hard shell, strong enough to withstand the impact of a nuclear explosion. Urukulk sank into the water, silently fighting against the unknown visitor.

Just as he was focused on this, a bit of flesh and blood began to gather around Uruk.

The flesh and blood quickly formed a human shape, only occasionally coalescing and dispersing as it coalesced into certain parts, seemingly arguing about which parts of flesh and blood should form the corresponding parts.

Soon, this flesh and blood formed the shape of Lu Ban.

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

The surface made a crisp sound, like a stone.

Lu Ban tried normal methods and found that the material was unusually hard and quite flexible. If this material could be replicated, many technologies in human society could probably be greatly developed.

Although biochemistry, environmental science, and materials science are notoriously difficult majors, it must be admitted that materials science is indeed what currently restricts the development of most technologies.

After thinking for a while, Lu Ban decided to try something new.

Chapter 883 Ideal World

Lu Ban placed his hand on the hard shell, and at the same time, the flesh gradually dissolved.