But the murals that followed were rather dull and unremarkable.
Through bloodline memories and an auxiliary memory organ located at the back of the head, setting ordinary people aside, at least the leaders and specialists of every generation could retain their professional abilities and lead their people onward.
Redwood Base had originally possessed the functions of a doomsday fortress, with every internal facility one could need. So long as they had not forgotten how to operate them, survival would never be a problem.
After several more generations rose and fell, the employees of different functions and professional skills led by the four leaders gradually transformed into the four great tribes within the base. The four leaders, meanwhile, became the four great elders passed down from generation to generation.
Although the social structure had degenerated into an elder tribal system over time, given their numbers, this was perhaps the most efficient and stable method of rule.
The four great tribes exchanged what each lacked and competed for power and profit, but the ruins truly held abundant resources. Every side needed the others' technologies to maintain their quality of life, so there were no real irreconcilable conflicts between them.
At this point, the colors of the murals suddenly became vivid, and their content grew far more interesting.
Ian saw the image of a tall, stern-featured man. He had gray hair and sky-blue eyes, and his confident smile occupied the center of this section of mural.
The man looked brimming with ambition, while four keys surrounded him.
Clearly, this man was the great elder from the era when the murals had been painted—he had gathered the four keys, united the four great tribes, and concentrated the authority of the Redwood leaders in one person.
The murals ended abruptly there.
Ian closed his eyes