There were a great many Necrons moving about inside the pyramid: patrolling guards and busy technicians alike. Though they all wore the same expressionless metal faces, Su Ming could vaguely sense that they were different from one another.
There was no need to silence the skeletons they passed. They merely had to fly over their heads. Following a Necron technician, the two descended underground via a floating "slab elevator."
The skeleton carried a stack of blackstone slabs as though they were documents. The sister floating above his head peered over the metal bald skull for a while, then poked Deathstroke to signal for him to take a look as well.
Wrapped in Cloak, Su Ming gave her a helpless look. Skeletons did not have brains, and Strangle could not use its old methods to gain the ability to decipher their writing. What was there to look at?
Only then did the sister realize. She grabbed Deathstroke's hand and wrote in his palm with her finger.
"Soul Loss Curse."
Deathstroke nodded. He had heard of it in his previous life. The Necrons had lost their souls long ago when they gave up their flesh; now, they were machines controlled by digitally simulated personalities.
The so-called Soul Loss Curse was, frankly, just a program malfunction.
Yet in their previous battles, they had not found any Necron tomb exhibiting signs of Soul Loss. Could it be that this dynasty was still fighting some of its brethren in the underground network?
He would keep that in mind for now.
This slab elevator did not even make a "ding" when it arrived. There was not so much as an elevator car around them, and the conditions on every floor were fully visible as they descended.
The technician carrying the documents stopped on one particular floor.