The style of the deicide had always been distinctive. Perhaps it was their obsession of wanting to be God that drove them to be particular about every detail, making them stand out. Whether it was the intricate runes and murals engraved on the armor plates of the spaceship or the functionless sculptures and shrines in the spacecraft corridors, they were all rarely seen in other civilizations.
The style of their runes and reliefs were impossible to imitate.
Hao Ren had thought of this earlier. But he only saw it on the spaceships, not their buildings. Since time had eroded the ruins in the forest, even the most magnificent golden palace had now collapsed into a pile of broken bricks. Blackened by rotten leaves and mud, these things now looked far from what they looked like during their glory days. That was why Hao Ren could not identify them at first glance.
However, when changing the grayish-black color to gold, their distinctive features were hard to miss.
