In a brightly lit circular chamber, the towering purple-skinned giant was kneeling in the middle of the room, his branch-thick fingers stroking the altar before him. At first glance, it looked as though he were desperately inhaling the dust from the stone platform.
It was cold here. Even with the light, the chill still seemed to bore into one's bones. It was probably caused by the Negative Energy lingering in this space.
Su Ming raised his hand and glanced at his Black Lantern Ring, seeing its light flicker. Then he lowered his hand thoughtfully.
"Sniff, sniff."
The Purple Sweet Potato Spirit was still smelling the stone platform. It was a somewhat strange sight, but Deathstroke, smoking a cigarette, ignored him and merely turned to look at Hela behind him.
"The familiar Negative Energy has probably driven Thanos into some hallucinations. Ignore him. Tell me, what can you sense?"
The reason he was called the Mad Titan was that one of Thanos's main conditions was Delusional Disorder. His crew all knew that Thanos would often sleep while holding a rotting female corpse and speak affectionately to it, because in his hallucinations, it was not a decaying body, but his Goddess of Death.
Negative Energy could easily trigger Thanos's episodes, but at such times, the happiness fabricated in his mind usually made him docile, so he was not particularly dangerous.
Of course, there were times when he argued with Death in his delusions—or rather, when the Goddess scolded him one-sidedly. That was another matter entirely.
After entering this circular hall, Hela's expression had grown much more serious, because she truly could sense more than the others.
As one of the users of the concept of death, she was even more closely connected to Death than Thanos, who sustained her. In this space,