The Star Painter regretted it.

He had no objection to having emotions of all kinds, as emotions were the foundation of an artist's existence, but he shouldn't have stopped the damn super-membrane drill according to the instructions, as this would have deprived him of his creative life.

That's hyphae, oh my god, that's hyphae! The primordial hyphae born from this incredibly complex membrane are more complex than any oasis devourer the Union has ever encountered, more terrifying than any factor of fear. They are the most highly adapted ordered entities to the changes in the membrane. While their probability of appearance is extremely low, their presence is eternal. They are the termites of the Transmembrane Sea, and no amount of membrane creation can satiate their greed. No ordered entity can eliminate them on their own. Any attempt to destroy the hyphae will only further strengthen it, unless it attracts another, even more terrifying hyphae.

The mycelium must be sealed and isolated!

The Star Painter was eager to restart the drill, but the changes in the membrane degree of the unique area caused by the super-membrane drill were irreversible. Restarting would take longer and be more dangerous. He had to sail a short distance in the middle membrane first, so he could only hope that the membrane-degree creature in absolute motion could dilute the traces he left behind.

He tried to call out to his companions around him, but there were too few fellow adventurers, and the probability of someone nearby being able to receive the middle membrane signal was extremely small - there was little hope.

He didn't know where he was in the mycelium, but it would be best if he was outside the synapses, so that he could at least have some room to maneuver.

Amidst a mixture of fear and hope, the Star Painter entered a wondrous realm of creation. He obliviously activated his spectral imaging system, observing the various details of the Membrane-like creations with wide eyes. This would expose him to danger, but since this might be his last creation, overdrawing a little of his remaining life was nothing.

The Star Painter's observation of the mycelium took less than 350 attoseconds, yet he was inevitably contaminated by it. This was a unique property of mycelium. The attempt to understand it caused the ordered body to merge with it, becoming part of it. His simple life, his simple thoughts, became complex, and so he could understand the mycelium. Unbeknownst to him, this was happening.

Under his brush, the obscure membrane coefficient within the curtain is first constructed. This serves as the foundation of the painting and the artist's personal imprint, allowing the viewer to instantly grasp the basic information of the work. The slightly more colorful membrane creation is then completed, a foundation upon this foundation, richer in detail but not so much as to overshadow the main subject. He then begins to depict the mycelium, allowing it to spread across the membrane creation, giving it a unique character. He connects coordinate points to construct an information grid, giving it three-dimensionality, and adds time series and observational data reference items to allow it to spontaneously change.

The star painter injects his emotions into his works, feeling the changes and directions of each dot. Even though they are extremely chaotic as a whole, for him, there are indescribable complex rules in them.

Then, the painting began to come alive, no, it really seemed to come alive.

It would be the Star Painter's best work, and it might be the best work at the next gathering—the most notorious and horrific depiction of mycelium.

The star painter was in great joy as he patiently waited for the ink on his painting to dry.

The super membrane drilling rig was successfully restarted, and he couldn't wait to show off his work. He used the super membrane communicator to contact the federation and submitted an application to hold a personal exhibition.