What appears before Veronica is a scene that mixes nightmares and twisted art.
At first glance, it looks like a garden. There is a large pit nearly a hundred meters deep in the center of the garden. The golden fountain is spewing scarlet liquid around, and below are many floating corpses undulate and flutter.
The drowning humans and aliens all looked up at her, as if they were lifted by the tumbling waves of the invisible ocean, and a long string of barbed copper chains tied to their throats, leaving them just below the water.
The abyss extending out of the chain was pitch black and unfathomable. The dead were staring at Veronica with their protruding eyes, and each life was stiffened in the final scream of horror and despair.
Surrounding the entire garden are thorny bushes, with thorny tendrils surrounding the chests of many humanoid creatures, pulling their arms cross-shaped toward both sides of their bodies.
The black tendrils firmly grasped the flesh, oozing out juice and exuding spices.
Nevertheless, they are not living things, nor machines, but completely different things.
What works here is a synthetic hybrid creature that creates them by someone or something.
Veronica looked around. In addition to the thorn bushes, there were many weird "trees" in the garden, or things similar to trees.
Various bodies hung around the tree in scattered manner. She saw Astart, green skin, and even Tyron Tyrant.
The same tendrils drooped from the darkness above their heads like sick tree roots, whispered and twitched by the hypnotized warriors, and bladed intravenous syringes filled their heads and throats, injecting chemical mixture into their veins and making them coma.
There were about thirty of these weird trees. Veronica focused her eyes on Astartes and found that their skin was painted with fancy and distorted colors, each showing varying degrees of worship and devotion to the evil god of Chaos.
There is no doubt that everyone here is Chaos Space Marine, so Veronica retracts her sight.
"Comoros..."
After realizing where he was, Veronica lowered her head and thought for a while.
Who brought herself here?
What is the purpose?
Before she could think about what result, a charming laughter interrupted her.
“Do you like my garden?”
The voice was like a snake's hissing, dripping with venom, but it was solemn and affectionate.
For Veronica, this is a simple and weird accent of the elval language, perhaps the so-called "snake language".
Although this is different from the Ada language commonly used by the Ark Spirits, it does not harm them in any way for smooth dialogue.
"Do you think I'll like it?"
"I guess so."
The sound was like a razor wrapped in thin silk, a voice seeking help from pain.
Then, the person who made the voice walked in surrounded by a team of witch spirits. These witch spirits were all wearing black lace dresses with cold and deadly beauty, among which Ifrene, who knocked Veronica out.
Their masters stood on a suspended pedestal composed of black bones and black crystals.
She was like a phantom among the poisonous black thorns. Her pale body seemed to never experience the nourishing light of the sun. Her smoky eyes were full of cunning and vicious wisdom, but she exuded a seductive charm at all times.
Even Veronica was full of disgust for these fallen peers, she had to admit that she had a stunning face, with dark purple hair intertwined with dark red dyed fabrics, tied together by a crystal ring as dark as the base she stood on, forming a long ponytail that reached her waist.
Her surprisingly slender body was wrapped in a well-outlined armored evening gown, with delicate and abominable patterns printed on the armor of the torso, and wiggled on the black armor surface, while her fluffy shoulders, tied cuffs, and skirts covering the boots were exquisite lace.
Under the snow-white neck was a piece of bare pale skin, with a black gem pendant the size of a fist hanging on it. The gem was pierced by three broken bones and was carved from spiritual bones. The edges were as white as snow, but the center was as dark as ink.
Her every move was extremely elegant and arrogant. While showing a charming smile, her right hand gently swayed the fan with a razor hidden in her right hand.
A metal mask on his head and hermaphrodite slave curled up on her pedestal, Veronica couldn't recognize its race, holding a slender pipe in its dirty claws and lifting one end to her mouth.
Before the other party opened his mouth again, he took a sip of the cigarette mouth and then exhaled a fragrant mist.
"Seldom people come to my private garden. Although I have seen it, it's a bit...exaggerated, but how can life be without some art?"
"Sorry, I can't appreciate your art."
Veronica frowned.
"It's better to just explain the purpose of the trip."
Suddenly, the air was filled with the low and sharp whistle of the anti-gravity engine. Veronica looked up and saw a group of dark elves in spiked armor whizzing past overhead, tearing the air from the ceiling with prismatic blades, waving hooked spears and jagged daggers.
"Don't worry about them, just deal with some minor troubles."
The elegant nobleman said, raising an arm and swung his shoulders back against the cloak made of dark fur and peeling.
"Although these troubles are caused by you."
Veronica looked at the other party, she could feel the stagnant heartbeat of the suffocating hearts of the warriors in the sky, and the sweet black aura almost completely penetrated their bones.
These pathological similarities are completely hopeless.
"What is your purpose for bringing me here? My fellow citizens will not sit idly by."
"Your countrymen?"
The laughter of the female nobleman was like a serrated blade scraping through the glass.
"Aren't we your fellow countrymen? It sounds really hurtful."
"When will you see us as fellow citizens?"
The female nobleman of Comoros looked at Veronica, as if he was trying to figure something out, and then smiled and said:
"Oh, by the way, your mentor must often tell you about our sins...and the fall."
She walked down from the floating platform, holding her slave like a puppy. When she came to Veronica, she suddenly reached out and stroked her delicate cheeks with her sharp fingertips:
"But he never told you that if all of us become wanderers who abandon our homes, then Ada, the once glorious race, will soon be lost in the galaxy, our history, our culture, our bloodlines will dissipate in the wandering world... The great fall has destroyed our homes in the material world. If we abandon our homes in the Internet, then guess whether you wanderers can use the Internet as safely as we are now? We have adhered to the last home of the race and have undertaken the most terrible curse for this, but you only think this is depravity?"
Veronica looked at the other party's amber eyes, then raised her finger and pointed to the slave crawling on the ground behind her.
“Including these too?”
The female nobleman sneered and withdrew her hand, then used her fingers to cut through the slave's head, making a deep hole in her body.
"Isn't it a lovely little guy? It's not completely useless to us."