“Have you submitted the letters on time?” Elwes’ voice was sharp, slicing through the low hum of machinery that filled the sterile lab. Her gaze, cold and calculating, flicked to Isolde. “We need those new bodies. It’s sudden, but I trust all ten will arrive as scheduled.”

Isolde leaned back in her chair, her arachnid legs clicking softly against the floor as she adjusted her posture. “The letters were sent three days ago,” she replied, her tone clipped but confident. “Verdi has confirmed that the bodies are en route as we speak. If anything goes wrong, it won’t be because of my timing.”

Elwes tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Good. There’s no room for error this time.”

Before the tension could thicken further, Verdi interrupted. His voice carried an almost mocking lightness, though his eyes were sharp. “What’s the plan for her, Ravenwood?” He nodded toward the table where Ceci’s inert body lay. “Her sister’s marks are dropping fast. I tried to talk her down, but... Etnolunarians are so stubborn, aren’t they?”

Dr. Ravenwood stood over Ceci’s body, his long fingers methodically replacing a damaged component with one of the beta parts. His movements were steady, almost detached. “This should do,” he murmured to no one in particular. “Get her back to the doll quarters. The new bodies will be here by dawn, and we’ll proceed as planned.”

Verdi smirked, leaning against the wall. “Just in time for them to settle in, hmm? I wonder what expression Mirielle will wear when she sees this success.” His words dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes betrayed a spark of curiosity.

Ravenwood didn’t respond, his focus remaining on Ceci as he made the final adjustments. “We’ll know soon enough,” he said softly, as though speaking to himself rather than the others.

---

“Let me go!” Lucy’s voice was raw, her anger unchecked as Sage and Blake struggled to hold her back. Her muscles strained against their grip, her eyes wild with desperation. “If he’s harmed Ceci, I swear I’ll kill him! Do you hear me? I’ll kill him!”

The words echoed off the cold, metallic walls of the doll quarters, her fury filling the space like a storm ready to break.

“Lucy, stop!” Blake grunted, his grip tightening as he tried to steady her.

A soft hiss interrupted him as the doors slid open. The air seemed to still.

Ceci stood in the doorway, her shadow long and distorted by the dim light behind her. She moved slowly, her posture eerily calm, as though detached from her surroundings. Behind her, a tall figure emerged, his steps deliberate.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The rhythmic sound of the man’s slow applause echoed through the room, sending a shiver through the remaining dolls. His black hair gleamed like polished obsidian, and his smile was sharp, almost predatory.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice smooth yet chilling. “The ten of you have survived the first trial.”

Blake took a step forward, his fists clenched, his face a mask of fury. “What do you mean, ‘first trial’? Do you see how many of us are left?” His voice cracked with frustration and grief.

“And is there even a second chance for us?” Sage’s voice wavered, though he tried to sound steady.

The man tilted his head, his smile widening as his dark wings unfurled slightly. “Calm yourselves, children,” Dr. Ravenwood said, his tone measured, as though addressing unruly students. “The next trial is the last. Remember, this is your choice. Those who left—those who didn’t survive—chose their fate. They lacked the will to continue.”

Dr. Isolde stepped forward, her six eyes gleaming as they scanned the room. “Tomorrow, you’ll be transferred into new bodies. They will resemble your old forms, but they’ll function... differently.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding.

Elwes slithered closer, her movements fluid and deliberate. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice carrying an unsettling edge of reassurance. “These bodies are your equivalent to Demunyos. The features you once had will not be... rudimentary.”

Pomona frowned, her suspicion clear in her voice. “So why is it another test?”

Ravenwood’s smile was faint, almost approving. “This test isn’t about your will anymore,” he said. “It’s about whether this world will accept you.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “Enlierau’s gwydion is different from Aureline’s. The first trial tested your ability to synchronize with its flow. The second will reveal if this world recognizes you as its own.”

Verdi’s eyes glinted with amusement—or perhaps reverence. “May Mirielle show you mercy,” he said softly.

---

The sterile white walls of the quarters seemed to close in on them as the dolls settled back into uneasy silence.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Will this world accept us?” Lucy’s voice trembled as she broke the quiet. Her knees were drawn to her chest, her head bowed. “Our own mother betrayed us. How can we trust that this world will show us any mercy?”

Ceci remained silent, watching Lucy with a detached curiosity. Something stirred within her—an instinct she couldn’t explain. She reached out, placing a hand gently on Lucy’s head. The touch was meant to comfort, but it only deepened Lucy’s sobs.

“I’ll make the world accept me,” Sage said suddenly, breaking the tension. His voice was firm, his resolve unwavering. “We’ve suffered enough in Aureline. This world might be kinder.”

“That’s right,” Blake said, standing up with renewed determination. “We’ve come this far. I’d do whatever it takes to make this world accept me—even if it means crawling on my hands and knees.”

Pomona let out a short, bitter laugh. “Is that your idea of acceptance? Oh, Kadohara, you’re as clueless as ever.”

Blake scowled but said nothing.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Pomona continued, her voice quieter now. “Maybe this world has something better for us. Maybe not.”

The conversation drifted into uneasy silence as the night wore on.

---

The vast fields hold a rundown facility.

Twelve carriages rumbled to a halt outside the facility gates under the pale light of dawn. The crisp morning air carried a faint metallic tang, as if the earth itself could sense the tension radiating from within. Two carriages were filled with delivery workers, while the remaining ten carried the cargo—gleaming, meticulously designed bodies that would soon serve as new vessels for the Ethnolunarians.

A young delivery boy jumped down from the lead carriage, brushing the dust from his jacket. “Dr. Elwes!” he called, his voice high-pitched but eager. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when I could deliver these units to *this* facility.” He glanced around nervously, as though expecting something unnatural to leap from the shadows.

Dr. Elwes slithered forward, her scaled body shimmering in the weak light. Her lips curled into a faint smirk. “The day has come,” she replied, her voice smooth and calculated. “The final test begins shortly. Stay on standby—we may need you.”

The boy’s brow furrowed. “Why standby, Doctor? Is something... expected to go wrong?”

Before Elwes could answer, Verdi strode out from the shadows, his tone dripping with condescension. “Because not all the souls will sync with their new bodies,” he said with a derisive chuckle. “And those who fail? Well, that’s where you come in. You’ll be our garbage boys, clearing out the rejects.”

The delivery boy stiffened, his face pale. “Rejects?”

“Enough, Verdi,” Dr. Ravenwood’s voice cut through like a blade. He stepped forward, his dark wings casting an imposing silhouette. His glare silenced Verdi, who folded his arms but didn’t argue.

The boy exhaled nervously, offering a forced smile. “It’s not a problem, Dr. Ravenwood. This facility is funded by our one and only Mirielle, after all. If it’s for her cause, we don’t mind cleaning up the mess.” His tone carried a fervent undertone of devotion, but his hands trembled slightly as he clasped them behind his back.

“Good,” Elwes said coolly, turning her gaze toward the carriages. “Now, let’s get to work. Isolde?”

From the shadows, Dr. Isolde emerged with a low, rhythmic tapping of her arachnid legs against the stone ground. She moved with a mixture of grace and menace, her eight limbs carrying her effortlessly toward the carts. “I’ll handle this,” she said, her voice tinged with irritation. Despite her disdain for manual labor, she relished the opportunity to assert her importance. “Stay out of my way, and don’t break anything.”

With surprising efficiency, Isolde began unloading the bodies, her limbs moving in perfect synchronization. Each new vessel gleamed under the rising sun, their features eerily perfect—an uncanny reflection of what they had once been.

---

Inside the facility

The remaining dolls stirred uneasily as the realization dawned that morning had arrived. The sterile walls of the quarters felt even colder, the air heavy with anticipation.

They’d spent the night sharing fragments of their pasts—moments of humanity that felt both distant and raw. Laughter had been rare, and silence had often crept in uninvited, but it had been enough to keep their minds off what lay ahead.

Now, they stood in a loose cluster as the doors slid open, and the four scientists entered.

“Everyone, form a line,” Elwes commanded, her voice carrying an edge of authority that left no room for hesitation. “One by one, you will enter the room. Dr. Isolde and Dr. Ravenwood will assist you in the synchronization process. May the Kadohara bless your souls.”

Dr. Ravenwood nodded, his wings shifting slightly as he spoke. “Dr. Verdi and Dr. Elwes will guide you to the chamber. The process is delicate, but we are prepared. Remain calm.” With that, he turned and disappeared through another door, leaving the group to ponder his cryptic words.

The line formed slowly, an air of reluctant determination settling over the dolls.

“I don’t have a heart,” one murmured softly, their voice trembling. “But I can feel it beating right now.”

“We’ll finally see the world with our own eyes,” Lucy whispered to Ceci, clutching her sleeve like a lifeline. Her voice was fragile, yet filled with hope.

Sage glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the pristine white walls. “Do you think Enlierau has open fields? I’m tired of these lifeless rooms,” he said wistfully, his voice a quiet plea for something better.

“We’re almost at the finish line,” another doll said, their tone equal parts excitement and dread.

“I wonder what the food is like here,” another chimed in with forced cheer. “I plan to find a job in this world. And cute clothes—those are a must!”

The small burst of humor elicited a few weak smiles, but the weight of the moment was impossible to ignore.

______

The line inched forward as names were called.

“Subject Rowan, enter.”

“Subject Caelum, enter.”

“Subject Ruby, enter.”

Each time, the named doll stepped forward, disappearing into the chamber. No one returned, and the tension in the air grew thicker with every name.

Thinking that there could be another exit.

“What’s taking so long?” Blake muttered, his voice tight with nerves.

"Subject Blake, Enter"

“They must be exiting through another door,” Sage suggested, though his tone betrayed his own doubts.

When “Subject Pomona, enter” was called, the unease reached its peak.

Moments later, Ravenwood’s voice rang out from beyond the chamber door. “Elwes! Get in here—now!”

Elwes moved swiftly, her composed exterior masking the turmoil beneath. When she emerged minutes later, her lips were set in a thin smile, but her eyes betrayed nothing.

Verdi resumed calling names, his tone flat and mechanical.

“Subject Lucy, enter.”

Lucy turned to Ceci, her expression a mixture of fear and determination. “I’ll see you soon,” she said softly, her hand brushing Ceci’s arm before she stepped forward. The door slid shut behind her.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the faint hum of machinery.

It took three agonizing minutes before Verdi’s voice returned.

“Subject Ceci, enter.”