Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me.

My eyes involuntarily closed as we walked. Lifting my head, I observed the cells moving in a single direction, toward the ominous “altar.”

We deliberately avoided the conveyor belt, always staying behind the beige line that served as a barrier separating us from the main factory.

“Here,” the monster pointed to a lengthy staircase. “Get up.”

“Huh?” My tongue moved sluggishly, and the sounds that escaped my mouth were far from conveying my intended meaning.

The monster ascended the stairs on its own, muttering something under its breath. I followed suit, my mind focused on the rumble of the conveyor belt.

Limbs, torsos, and heads with empty eye sockets were strewn across the conveyor belt.

We climbed higher and higher, flanked by steel bars on both sides.

I caught sight of other “workers.”

Above each of them, blue windows glowed:

[0%]

[Is it?]

[You have to merge with the collective. Some things can damage your mind, so sometimes your body will be controlled by the system.]

[Don’t you think it’s too late to talk about “psychological trauma”?]

[Everyone has their own tolerance limit.]

I shrugged my shoulders and convulsively gasped, feeling the ulcer on my rib throb.

The workers placed limbs onto carts, while one of them glanced up at me with a manic look, tapping his claws on the conveyor.

Irrespective of the number of limbs, with each lap, the conveyor belt emptied, and the carts filled with raw materials.

I had anticipated standing alongside the workers, but we continued to ascend. The monster had failed to enlighten me about the factory as a whole.

The steel bars gradually thinned out and disappeared entirely after a few meters.

Then, a deafening sound reverberated through the air.

Three orange circles spun at an incredible speed.

Have you ever heard the sound of an axe cleaving through tender young birch trees?

Well, the bone-crushing noises I heard were much wetter and softer. A lump formed in my throat as I beheld three circular blades operating at the very top of the peculiar structure. Whether due to their velocity or intentional design, they emitted intense heat, capable of not only severing flesh but also cauterizing wounds. Rare purple droplets scattered in various directions, and the wet floor announced our passage with loud slaps.

Pain-filled screams and agonized cries began to fill the air, causing tremors to course through my body.

Cages crashed onto the steel floor, chains rattled, and metal screeched. The creatures within pleaded for salvation in a language unknown to me.

I had witnessed hell.

Monstrous beings brandished iron whips adorned with spikes, relentlessly lashing the disobedient captives. Scraps of flesh littered the floor, and only one color dominated the surroundings—purple.

In different variations and shades, it overwhelmed my senses, momentarily leaving me feeling colorblind.

Cages containing critters and beasts lined the area, resembling a bloody and iron cemetery.

Distorted and forgotten by everyone.

Trembling creatures and beasts were forcefully pulled out of their cages. Hideous monsters grabbed them and callously threw them into the merciless machinery. Their frail bodies often torn apart and mangled in the process.

A mighty roar pierced the chaotic scene as a muscular figure refused to succumb to its grim fate. With a combination of hind paw strikes and powerful headbutts, it fought back against the workers.

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Then, with determination in its eyes, it charged in my direction.

I locked gazes with its bottomless red eyes, witnessing a mixture of anguish and an unyielding will to survive.

The monster guiding me abruptly halted, emitting a menacing hiss through its menacing fangs.

“Kill,” it commanded.

All eyes immediately shifted to the wounded silhouette. The injured beast, its tail torn and mouth dripping with blood, let out a final defiant roar. Pushing aside the clumsy monsters in its path, it closed the distance between us.

A rallying cry emerged from the captive creatures, echoing through the chamber, as if beckoning everyone to join the fight.

However...

The resilient chains around the beast’s arms crackled with several hues of electric arcs.

“Rhaa!” With a resolute growl, the charging beast dropped to one knee, straining every muscle to break free from its shackles.

The first blow struck its head, momentarily dulling its fiery red gaze.

The workers now rushed toward the beast, their hands pinning it down.

“Wrong,” Cherry muttered with extreme disappointment, his lips pursed as he approached the beast.

“Ras... Ritvin. Rua,” the inmate growled, its fur bristling with each step Loss took.

Ugly hands clutched the beast’s rounded ears, while a dirty paw forcefully pressed its forehead against the ground. The monster pulled at a piece of flesh, causing the beast to bite its own tongue until it bled. It seemed as if all of the creature’s formidable strength had evaporated within seconds.

With a crack, the fur and flesh were forcibly torn away by crooked claws.

Lower Loss threw back his head and tasted the purple droplets with the tip of his tongue. Then the morsel vanished into his open mouth, and he slowly chewed on the flesh, emitting a guttural gurgle. Then it gestured toward the still-operating saw.

The beast convulsed with every jolt on its trunk, while the ravenous workers tore off their portions and consumed the fresh meat with unabashed gusto. Still alive, the beast had become a walking delicacy.

I stood there, mouth agape, helplessly observing the chaos unfolding before me.

With a collective push, the creature was propelled three meters closer to the spinning blades, condemned to a grisly demise.

The surrounding creatures pressed their bodies to the ground, their indifferent gazes deliberately averted from the final moments of the brave fugitive’s life. Not once did the beast raise its voice, even as the movement of the blades gradually slowed, prolonging its agonizing demise for a few more excruciating minutes. All the while, the workers observed the execution with sickening delight. Cherry, crouching closest to the scene, casually tore off pieces of flesh stuck to the saw’s razor-sharp teeth and deposited them into a black bag.

Only after the refugee’s complete annihilation did the monsters resume their “work.”

“Go,” Lower Loss commanded, dusting off his palms before ascending the filthy stairs.

Confusion enveloped me. Where were It taking me?

Even a fool would understand that with each level forward and upward, the situation only grew worse.

Pus-filled pupils stared at me expectantly.

[You cannot refuse the Mission, otherwise you will be punished.]

I remained motionless.

Iron spikes struck the creature’s shoulder, and its howl exceeded even that of the working saw.

[The strong survive. And the weak become their food. Are you strong, Mr. 137?]

I was at a loss for words. Halting my futile urge for justice, I closed my eyes to the cacophony of agonized cries and obediently followed my guide.

The path to survival was paved with the remnants of the deceased. Who knew, perhaps tomorrow someone would tread upon my desiccated spine?

Yes, I was weak. My bones would be laid to rest before anyone had a chance to tread the blood-soaked trail.

I craved strength.

The sounds of sawing and bones crunching faded into the distance.

Yet, with each ascent, the light grew dimmer. The glowing runes that lined the sides of the stairs now obstructed our view entirely. I could barely see beyond five meters. Had I also lost my night vision?

We reached a section where the landscape was dominated by shifting mounds of pus and ulcers. Their individual identities were indistinguishable amidst their distorted features, resembling gelatinous masses filled with all manner of decay.

They emitted guttural howls, weighed down by their own deformities.

The runes on the stairs shone brightly, forming an impenetrable barrier that kept these abominations at bay, preventing them from approaching us, the those who continued to traverse the stairs.

The monster came to a halt, and I, who struggled to move forward. Streams of green liquid flowed from my nostrils, a testament to the physical toll this journey was taking on me. Gasping for breath, I rested my trembling hands on my knees, desperate for a moment’s respite.

One of the creatures pressed its deformed body against an invisible barrier, flattening itself completely. I found myself on the same level as this mountainous heap of gray flesh.

Through a crevice in its gelatinous folds, I caught sight of an eye.

The tender, pink hue stared at me without flinching.

It lasted no more than a second before the second creature also pressed against the first. I gazed in horror at these colossal figures.

Now, the dense green eye was fixed upon me once again, but this time, it seemed filled with curiosity.

The mass of flesh undulated and swayed, its single eye pulsating, until suddenly, it burst, showering my face with a sickly gray slime.

I couldn’t bear it any longer, and I vomited.

“Gah-gah,” Loss seemed to laugh, clutching his bloated belly with his massive fingers.

Wiping my lips with the back of my trembling hand, I regarded the presenter skeptically. His mouth hung open, revealing decaying teeth, while the black bag dangled from his palm. He withdrew pieces of meat that still quivered, causing purple droplets to spill onto the floor.

The creatures that had moments ago fixated their gazes upon me now began to shift their attention towards Loss.

Scores of others emerged from the shadows, approaching us with the agility of wildcats.

The mountains of flesh quivered... with anticipation?

“To feed,” the monster declared, tossing the pieces into the air.

The grotesque slurping sounds were interrupted by an ear-piercing roar that reverberated through the air, so surreal that it momentarily made me question my sanity.

Loss plunged his fingers back into the bag, retrieving a barely alive creature. It was small and emaciated, its sharp ribs threatening to pierce through its thin, pale gray skin.