Chapter 163: Morbid display
The dimly lit corridor of the complex stretched out, its walls lined with flickering holographic displays showcasing gleaming logos twisted in static. A soft clanging sound reverberated as Dante's stainless helmet gleamed under the emergency red lights, the white fur lining the upper regions of his head softly shifting as he moved, almost like a living cloud. He paused for a moment, surveying the carnage ahead, a corner where the hallway bent sharply.
("I no longer sense Nihil's presence. The two Fate Walkers served to preoccupy me long enough so the weapon was moved.") He deduced easily, ("However, I am not here for the blade anymore.")
He had come here for information—specifically regarding the human experimentation that the Vel'ryr labs had conducted. He had seen glimpses of information in his thorough cleaning up of the lab. He prioritized the Divine Blade Nihil, but now it would be hard to relocate it.
As he approached another corner, he stepped past the unconscious guards he had dispatched.
Dante reached what appeared to be another primary lab's entrance, the doors imposing and fortified with complex locks, an emergency lockdown. He reached a hand towards the door, his armored fingers sinking into the tough alloy like quicksand, then he peeled away at the heavy entrance as if he was interacting with paper. The door was easily torn away, and he threw the useless hunk of alloy to the side as he entered.
Inside, the lab was hastily abandoned, with equipment scattered around, shattered glass, and papers floating lazily in the artificial breeze. Scientists must have abandoned their posts when he attacked the lab. Data screens blinked warnings, evidence of ongoing investigations. Toward the far side of the room, a series of sleek metallic cages caught his eye, their dark interiors ominous. He stepped forward, the cape billowing gently behind him as he began sifting through the scattered documents littered on the floor and large table.
Blueprints of experiments detailed on torn pages described processes that would have chilled most to their core. As he dug through the wreckage, he pieced together fragments of plans that spoke of power and the manipulation of mana within a person, all shrouded in cold, bureaucratic language. Dante transitioned from the smaller lab room into an expansive chamber that opened before him smoothly. The air was decorated with a musty scent of burnt machinery and something far more acrid. The large room sprawled outwards, its high ceilings still flickering with emergency lights. Countless downed soldiers clad in sleek, black advanced armor, their forms crumpled. Their unconscious bodies were propped awkwardly against the remains of high-tech workstations.
As he ventured deeper into the room, a massive laboratory console came into view, its imposing frame untouched—exactly what he had sought. The console towered above him, adorned with sleek panels that pulsed faintly with dim light. A large monitor loomed overhead, its display filled with a dizzying array of graphs, data sets, and visual imagery that took attention. The moment he stepped within reach of the console, a low hum resonated through the air, the machine responding almost eagerly.
Dante activated the console, that much was easy—just press the largest button, his gauntleted hand gliding over the interface. As the screen flickered to life, it showed morbid yet intriguing information. The graphs illustrated fluctuations in mana levels drawn from various subjects—he leaned closer, analyzing the array of data as various notes scrolled by, some accompanied by chilling annotations and bold red warnings.
[Subject 0345: Mana extraction successful but resulted in permanent psychological trauma.]
He frowned slightly, a wave of irritation washing over him as he processed the cold clinical terms that masked the inhumanity of what had occurred here. Images appeared next, studies on subjects who possessed mana, their expressions a mix of fear and severe agony, almost frozen in time. He observed the close-up photographs of limbs bound in sleek metal restraints, with electrodes attached to their skin.
A sub-window opened, flashing videos highlighting the experiments. The footage showed subjects tethered to machinery, energy crackling around them as they were subjected to processes designed to siphon their mana; cries echoed faintly. Despite the visceral reactions the footage would have sparked within most, he kept his demeanor steady, his expression behind his helm impassive as he watched on.
A man, strapped to a transparent table, writhes in agony as a mechanical arm hovers above him. The arm, equipped with precision tools, descends, its sharp appendages gleaming under the sterile lights. With each movement, the machine punctures the man's skin, extracting samples of muscle tissue. The victim's screams echo through the chamber, as the scientist overseeing the procedure leans forward, their eyes one's of disturbing fervor. They murmur gibberish, as their gloved hands make minute adjustments to the machinery, almost ensuring the agony is prolonged.
As the man's struggles weaken, the scientist intensifies their efforts, employing advanced disruptors that tear through flesh, leaving gaping wounds that ooze and pulsate. He could all but smell the acrid smell of burnt skin and the wet, sickening sounds of flesh being torn.
The display shifts, revealing a young child, trapped within a glass chamber. The girl's eyes, wide with terror, reflect the flashing lights of the containment field that holds her captive. The scientist, a different one, approached with a syringe the size of a dagger. The child's pleas for mercy go unanswered as the scientist injects an unknown substance into her neck, causing her body to contort and spasm. The chamber fills with a noxious gas, and the child's screams turn to gurgles as her body convulses.
Another scene materializes, this time featuring a woman, her face and body marred by the scars of countless experiments. She hangs suspended in mid-air, restrained by invisible forces. Lasers moved across her skin, etching patterns as they cauterize wounds even as they create new ones. The scientist manipulate the controls, causing the lasers to slice deeper, carving words into her flesh.
The display shifts again, revealing a montage of atrocities. A man's bones are visibly broken and reset in unnatural angles, his screams haunting. Another subject, a young man, is submerged in a tank of viscous fluid, his body slowly dissolving as the scientist observes with detached curiosity. A woman's mind is probed and scrambled.
Dante's eyes narrow as he witnesses the scientists' perverse creativity. One scene depicts a subject being subjected to extreme temperature variations, their body frozen and shattered, then scorched and melted, over and over, while the scientist takes meticulous notes. Another shows a man's nervous system being manipulated, his body contorting involuntarily, every movement causing excruciating pain.
The display transitions to a scientist using nanites, injecting them into a subject's bloodstream, causing their body to mutate and transform, their screams becoming unrecognizable as their humanity is warped beyond comprehension.
("I see. Subjecting their bodies to abuse forces it to adapt, their mana to toughen in order to ensure survivability.") Dante deduced, ("It follows the same principle as training mana, treating it as a muscle that can grow under strain and training.")
Another section of the monitor shifted, displaying diagrams of weapon systems alleged to utilize the extracted mana. Weapons and Magitech absorbing fragments of mana to unleash unprecedented destruction. Dante stepped back from the console, surveying the remnants of the chamber. All of this—the suffering, the exploitation—was not in vain, he thought.
He turned sharply, scanning the room for any hidden exits or routes that might lead him further into the labyrinth of the facility. The glowing information screens of the console flickered in his peripheral vision while he assessed the unconscious guards that littered the area.
("Vel'ryr outpost in Verdantis served to kidnap civilians in order to sacrifice them to garner an accumulation of souls. Yet these are not only Verdantis residents but no doubt refugees as well. Unethical experimentation, were the calamities not on the horizon then this would spell a world-scale war.") He determined.
Crack
The sound of weight over shattered glass rang clear in his ears, his body all but disappeared in a blur of speed. In an instance, he appeared before a figure, his right hand with outstretched fingers shooting outwards to pierce what could be an attacker, but he stopped just short of their heart-shaped delicate face.
"Waaaaaah!?" A loud shrill scream of the aforementioned attacker rang throughout the hallways as they fell backward on their rear.
"It's not wise to sneak up on someone," That familiar bright salmon-pink hair made her easily recognizable, "Isabella." He noted.
"S-sorry." The songstress spawn uttered out, her face flushed with embarrassment. Dante offered a hand, her dainty hand reached out and took it nervously as he easily hoisted her up to her feet.
"What are you doing here?" He asked bluntly and to the point.
Isabella cleared her throat, attempting to get rid of the last remnants of her embarrassment as she spoke, "W-well there's been word in Verdantis of you suddenly attacking Vel'ryr. Percival sent me and Lyraeth to see if it was true, but Dante why?"
"Hmph, there's more going on here than you realize." He started, his voice carrying through the corridor. "However, how were you able to locate me?"
"Uhm, I've been taking lessons with Lady Lyra after battling that woman who attacked the capital, she taught me a lot of things. How to track mana and locate who it belongs to, your mana is quite distinct." She explained.
"I see, it is within your best interest to return, my business is not yet finished here in Vel'ryr."
"W-wait, you do know that you attacking Vel'ryr can start another war, right?" Isabella reminded nervously.
"There is something more severe than war on the horizon," He stated much to her confusion. "Currently my goal is to stop that along with freeing Vel'ryr captives."
"Captives?"
"Vel'ryr troops have been taking in refugees under the pretense of providing shelter as well as taking prisoners from various other nations." He clarified, Isabella's brows furrowed as a frown found its way onto her face, "They have been conducting experiments on those people, focusing on extracting their mana after strengthening it through abuse to the bodies."
Isabella's eyes widened in horror at the prospect, "Vel'ryr has been doing that?" Dante nodded, "R-really? That'...."
Dante began moving past her, "I cannot stay here any longer. Go back to Verdantis, Isabella, my goals here are not for the faint of heart."
"Wait! I can help." She exclaimed, causing a glance to be thrown her way. "My Familial Arts can serve to heal those injured."
"You will see things you wish you had not, things better left unknown." He warned.
"Then I will simply have to bear with it." She shot back, her brows furrowed and her eyes glinted with determination.
Dante merely grunted, "I will not stop you, but know you can turn back at any time."
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[Anuran private palace]
Impatient tapping rang throughout the expansive and silent makeshift throne room. Anuran tapped the armchair of her throne, her cold red eyes zeroing in on a nervous Vel'ryr soldier. His armor was severely damaged and seemed to be barely kept together.
"-my lady, he came out of nowhere and like a savage tore everything to pieces!" He bellowed, traces of fear still present in his tone, though whether it was directed to Anuran or still Dante that was unknown. "Even our advanced magitech he tore apart with brute strength." He shuddered at the memory.
Anuran did not seem to care about his fear or injured state in the least, "And what of Nihil? That blade provided important data."
"I-it was successfully moved, my lady." He answered, the rest of the Vel'ryr soldiers lining the room might have seen that as lucky given Anuran's personality, but unfortunately luck had a clear limit, "But there is something else you should know, my lady."
"Oh? Do tell."
"We tracked some activity from the still intact monitors in that laboratory, reviewing footage from our mana extraction...." He informed, Anuran drew an annoyed sharp breath.
"Then you do know what that entails? Correct?" The soldier nodded nervously, "Those experiments were to be kept under wraps at all times. Tell me where is Dante currently?"
"I-I don't know, my lady, I came here as soo-"
"So..." He was cut off before he could continue, "Instead of tracking him immediately, you ran back with your tail between your legs?" She questioned, her tone dangerously low.
"B-but I...."
"Well, at least be thankful that you served your final purpose."
"Wai-"
Anuran snapped her fingers, and then in an instance, the man's body started to implode, growing rapidly in size like a balloon waiting to burst before he lit up like an explosion. An explosion of red mist and shards of armor, no bone or even organs to be spotted.
The blood came down like rain, staining the Princess's face, but she did not seem to mind, ("How illogical. Dante seemed like a rather calm individual....but this wildness does entice me. Bringing the powerful under my heels is always more preferable.") She smiled despite her carnage as she snapped her fingers once more. In a swift display, one of the idle guards made their way below her throne, kneeling. "Dispatch a team to locate the attacker, when you do, send Emilia and the good general to take care of him, but have them bring him to me alive. The former should quite enjoy the exercise."
"At once, my lady." The guard shot back up to his feet, turned on his heel, and briskly walked away. Anuran leaned her head on her hand.
("Apologies, Dante, but I can't have you save these subjects. They're much too useful to me and Vel'ryr, but once you're my pet, I doubt you'll worry much.") A smile slid across her face at the thought.