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Warlock of the Mist [DISCONTINUED]
Chapter 12: Siren's call

Chapter 12: Siren's call

"Alright, focus up." Grayton thought as he brushed his bangs that covered his eye to the side, maximising his field of vision.

Grayton ran in circles around the four pillars, speeding up and stopping to dodge the hands when needed. His face held a joyful smile as he ran, one like that of a child playing tag.

"Now, what do I do?" Grayton thought, breathing heavily. "If this goes on, I'll run out of steam before I’m able to do anything against it. Well, I’ll just circle around for now while I think-"

A loud roar thundered through the room, seemingly coming from underneath the floor and behind the walls. One of the bigger hands stretched toward the middle of the room and swept through all four pillars and at Grayton, launching concrete rubble and rebar everywhere.

"Hahah! Scratch that, then!" He threw himself on the ground, letting the hand swing harmlessly above him. Once he got up, the gigantic hand had already outside of his striking range. However, Grayton had an idea.

He raised his sword, channeling more mana into it before swinging down and ejecting the energy within it as an arc-like projectile. Clearly a move inspired from Charles's display when they first met.

The results were less than disappointing. Forget hitting the arm, the mana construct wobbled and dissipated not even two meters away from him. Not only that, the humiliating display also consumed a significant portion of his mana. Somewhere, Charles burst out into laughter.

"What the fuck am I doing? That wasn't even funny!" Grayton didn't have time to complain as as soon as he conducted his pathetic attack, three spectral hands burst through the ground beside him and grasped for him, forcing him to jump away. "Now I'm down to probably fifteen percent, fuck me!”

The next few seconds went by like a blur. Now that his cover was gone, Grayton could barely jump around to avoid getting grabbed by the hands, much less retaliate. The rhythmic tapping could be heard as his foot touched the ground with the sound of a deadly appendage slamming into the concrete following suit more often than not.

It was like a dance with a mercilessly rising tempo. The interval between each taps were getting quicker and quicker. Soon enough, no more laughter could be heard as Grayton's mind struggled to keep up with the lethal tempo. Were the hands getting faster? Or was his brain reaching its limit?

He leapt into the air, jumping over an arm the tried to intercept his path. He spun his body around and put his foot on one of the arms pushing himself toward the ground faster than he could fall. "I can't spend too long in the air or I'll get caught!"

The moment he landed, he had to jerk his body to the side to evade another incoming hand. "Woah, close one! I gotta- Gah!"

One of the smaller hands balled up into a fist and slammed into his liver, flinging him into a wall yet again. "Akh!"

In a flash, all the hands started moving in unison. The bigger ones and the smaller ones stretched around each other, forming some sort of dark enclosure to prevent hus escape while the moderately sized ones inched forward to apprehend him.

Grayton threw out a round of expletives, clutching his side as he winced in pain. He slid down into a squatting position as his vision started to blur. "C'mon, not yet!"

Despite the seemingly dire situation, Grayton was sure he would have laughed at his blunder if not for the pain. With Charles on the lookout, there was no need to feel nervous. All that's left is to simply enjoy the experience.

"Seriously, what is wrong with me?" He slapped himself on the cheek in an attempt to stop himself from losing consciousness. It seemed to work well enough. He gazed at the oncoming hands, observing his situation. "Why do I find this so... Fun!"

He tilted his body forward until the soles of his shoes were pointed at the wall behind him. Before his face could touch the filthy floor, he channeled mana into his legs and extended both of his legs, slamming his feet into the wall and launching himself forward.

"Nice, nice!" Grayton smiled as he slipped right under the hands that threatened to grab him. Continuing on, he quickly found himself before the barrier of hands.

"Oh well, looks like I'll have to use this. "Grayton conjured a portal in front of him that launched a golden bolt at the wall of hands. The bolt tore a sizable hole in the hands, cold, white mist exuded from the crater. A scream echoed through the ballroom once more as the thing scrambled to repair the hole in its defenses. But it was too late.

"That's one." He thought of this ordeal like a game, where the amount of portals he could summon were his "lives". As long as he had one, he could escape from any predicament. "When I run out, its game over."

Grayton already lunged through the hole and continued to dash to the other side of the room. Since most of the hands were bunched together to form that barrier, the only thing that awaited him on the other side were the biceps of the arms, jutting out from the holes in the walls and floor. They were entangled with each other when they tried to hastily erect the enclosure, making them extremely vulnerable in their current state.

Grayton giggled as he began to sever the arms to the horror of the beast. The methodical cutting of the arms one-by-one quickly devolved into simply swinging his sword around randomly. Everywhere he swung, the blade encountered purple, putrid flesh.

"After all, those hands will catch up to me before I get all of them no matter how hard I try." Grayton reasoned. Numerous appendages as thick as a tree fell as he walked through the forest of limbs. "Who knows? This might just be faster!"

As expected, a table-sized hand reached for him in a grasping motion mere moments later, forcing him to end his gory march to squat down to avoid getting crushed. He shifted his leg, trying to find a free spot to jump to. A few smaller hands slammed their palm on the floor around Grayton, crushing the ceramic tiles along with his chance of escaping.

Grayton formed a finger gun with his hand and pointed it upward, severing the arm above him before it could crush him under its weight. "That's two."

He leapt through the gap the bolt carved through the arm and started to run away. It didn't take long for him to find a looming shadow above the path he was running to, causing him to slam his foot in front of him, stopping himself in his tracks. The quick motion saved him from being crushed by an opportunistic hand that slammed at the ground with a loud crash at the cost of a wave of pain reverberating through his tibia.

He took advantage of the hand that still stood motionless after the attack by severing it with his cutlass. This proved to be a bad mistake as the time it took for him to complete his attack allowed another another car-sized hand to catch him in its grasp. In a burst of panic, he instinctively conjured a bolt inside the grip with him, disintegrating all the fingers and dropping him back into the floor. "Three; damnit!"

Grayton burst into a sprint as soon as he touched the ground, not wanting the hands to congregate at his position. However, it didn't take long for him to be trapped yet again. The hands were now moving in unison, no longer entangling with each other and were separated into divisions, each with a specific goal in mind.

The bigger ones swept at him in order to herd him toward the forest of hands formed by the horde of smaller hands that served to surround and eliminate all pathways to escape. Lastly, the medium sized hands methodically approached him from every angle in an attempt to catch him in their grasps.

"It's adapting to my movements?" Grayton clenched his teeth. He was starting to get sick of being cornered

Trapped in yet another encirclement, he shot a bolt that disintegrated one of the medium-sized hands and jumped up toward it. He landed on its forearm and started running up it. "Four. If I get caught one more time I'm done!"

"Which means..." Grayton smiled. He drew into the deepest reaches of his mana vessels. All the remaining mana in his body heeded his call, swirling around in his abdomen, ready to be used for one last surge "I shouldn't hold back anymore, should I?"

He channelled all of his remaining mana into his left leg, but this time he didn't bother regulating it. The power inside him flowed like a raging river, slamming into the inside of his foot. The arm bent downward unnaturally under the force of the impact as Grayton bounced away. But it didn't end there.

He didn't attempt to quell or control the mana raging through his body. Instead, when the mana inside him rebounded off his foot and worked its way back upward at ludicrous speed, he let it. He simply nudged it here and there to redirect it to a slightly more workable position. It didn't take even a second for the mana to find itself within his right arm; his sword arm.

"Oh wow, it actually worked!" Grayton laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself.

He swung his arm downward a moment before the mana plowed into his fingertips. When it impacted, his hand jerked forward, empowering the swing with a tremendous burst of speed and power. The momentum was so large it couldn't be contained with a simple swing.

His swing became so powerful it pulled himself down and continued into a waterwheel-like motion for multiple rotations across the room. The whole sequence felt like a blur and he couldn't really tell what was happening as he spun. All he could feel was the sensation of his blade slicing through the pudgy flesh.

His mana rebounded once again and slammed into his right leg mid-spin, pulling him out of the spin abruptly. It felt like he was being pulled and thrown by his leg, which ended up sinking into the backhand of an arm above him which was probably trying to catch him once his spin lost momentum.

Unfortunately for the undying, predicting Grayton's movement would prove to be impossible as he would be violently flung in the direction of a random limb every few seconds. It was only when Grayton attempted to stop and reorient himself did he quickly realise something.

"I can't control my mana... It keeps bouncing around!" He chuckled. "Alright, then! If that's how it's gonna be I might as well just go all the way."

He took a deep breath and focused on accelerating the flow of mana bouncing in his body. This resulted in the interval between each rebound to be reduced to almost instant. The mana rebounded back into his hand, which he aimed downward diagonally to avoid a volley of grasping hands. Once out of the way, he let his mana slam into his foot that he aimed upward, flinging him back up into the air before he could hit the ground.

"What kind of messed up technique is that?" Charles laughed. "That can't be good for ya!"

"You're probably right." Grayton smiled as his hand jerked toward a nearby arm, slamming into it with immense force. His face was red as his blood rushed into his head after that last maneuver.

It was like his limbs had a mind of their own. His body was flung into choppy, unnatural movements every passing moment. However, these movements, when executed in quick succession, appeared more like fluid dancing through the air. Each stroke taking out one or more of the arms.

It also helped that there were some sort of pattern to the bounces. His mana rebounded between his upper and lower body allowing him to choose which leg and arm it would enter. However, as all things in life do, there was a problem with his current situation.

The first and most obvious would be that the bounces were slowly losing their efficacy as Grayton started to run out of mana. But there was a more severe, more pressing matter: the rebounds were starting to hurt.

"Ow, ow ow!" Grayton exclaimed. "It feels like someone is punching me from the inside!"

The mana rebounded off his hand and bounced into his right leg which he used to kick a hand away. "No, that's exactly what's happening! I'm the one punching myself from the inside!"

He tried once again to quell the mana bouncing around within him, determined to stop before something important breaks. "C'mon... It's time to stop this; no need to wait for me to run out of mana."

However, it was just as futile as the first time he tried it.

"Ok, how about this?" Grayton thought, slashing through another wrist. Once the mana rebounded off his arm he split the flow in two, redirecting them into both of his legs. He aimed his legs directly downward and let the mana propel him into the floor, breaking the ceramic tiles. "And... touchdown."

The two bits of mana rebounded from his legs, causing Grayton to clench his teeth. However, that would be the last bounce as once they both worked their way up from his legs, he redirected them into each other, neutralizing the force and the last remains of his mana.

"Someone tell me I'm a genius." Grayton celebrated his clever solution before looking around and seeing dozens of hands working their way toward him. "I cut down that many of you and there's still that many? I guess I really didn't stand a chance."

He scoffed, pressing his left hand against as many wounds as he could. Now that he was manaless, blood continued to spurt from his cuts. "Oh, well."

With his back against a wall, Grayton pointed a finger gun toward the crowd of hands. "One last attack." He proclaimed.

"I couldn't keep track of the cooldowns during that whole thing but I'm guessing at least two of my portals are up?" Grayton thought. "Whatever, I'll just bring out as many I can."

He sighed, expecting to end with a lame finale. However, to his surprise, nine portals opened up behind him, each of them emitting a golden light.

"Oh? Oh?" Grayton's eyes widened before laughing maniacally. "Seriously, why couldn't I know this earlier? Ah, it's not like it would have changed the outcome."

He raised both of his eyebrows and grinned widely, releasing his volley. "Bang!"

The volley of golden bolts tore through the hands like hot butter, spraying mist everywhere where they impacted. Subjugating the beast almost seemed possible until the mist cleared up, revealing another couple dozen of hands, ready to charge at him.

"Never stood a goddamned chance." He scoffed humorlessly, raising both of his hands to signify his surrender. "Alright, I'm done. Charles?"

Almost instantly, Grayton felt a cold breeze from inside his shadow that continued to grow larger behind him. Upon seeing the spectacle, the hands suddenly stopped and seemed to hesitate.

"Heheh, about time ya threw in the towel, kid." A smiling mouth appeared on his shadow along with black ribbons that shot out of the shadow and wrapped themselves around Grayton's wounds. They felt like ice-packs to him, but Charles's cold nature turned out to be beneficial in this situation as it helped dull the pain in his arms. "Now, I'll take it from here."

"Yeah, yeah." Grayton shivered from the sensation of his new "bandages" on his skin. "What will you show me this time, Charles?"

He felt a wave of frigid miasma crawl up his leg from his shadow and up his shoulders where it magically burst out without damaging his clothes. It did so in the form of black roots that looked as if they pierced through his shoulders. The position and density of the roots made them vaguely resemble wings that started to unravel.

The many endings of the roots started to extend and split off into branches, each ending targeting a different hand. They made creaking noises as they moved and pierced through the fleshy hands, but instead of puncturing through like a spear, the roots seemed to dissolve and enter through the hands, causing black veins to spread up the forearms.

"Knowing his precision, there's probably exactly one root for every hand." Grayton stood firm. Despite his legs, threatening to buckle and fail he refused to sit down or change his position in any way. Charles formed dozens and dozens of roots and were actively controlling each of their trajectories to hit all the hands, even taking into account their evasive maneuvers. "If you look at it like that, it would be an insult to fall and throw off his calculations right now. These tired legs are nothing compared to what he's doing."

Grayton grit his teeth into a wry smile. "Well, knowing him he probably could correct the trajectory even if I did, but still."

It didn't take long for all of the roots to meet their target. The black veins spread like ink on a canvas, dyeing the entirety of the hands black and erasing all shades of purple. Once it spread up the upper-arms and past that to the main body that presumably resided within the walls, the undying let out one last weak screech before going limp.

"Aaand, it's dead! Ta-da~" Charles said, retracting all the roots back into the shadow and manifesting his usual avatar. "Was the show to yer liking?"

Grayton took a deep breath before answering. "Always so dramatic..."

Despite his harsh comment, an amused smile rested on his face.

"Didn't move an inch..." Charles silently observed. "Seriously, is he comparin' his burdens to mine? What a weird mindset."

"Anyway..." Charles continued, readjusting his mask to properly align with his head. "Let's see what ya did wrong. I think not dodgin' on purpose is a good place to start. Even if they can barely penetrate your mana shield. venomous undyings do exist and..."

Charles's avatar paused and gazed around the room suspiciously.

"Hmm?" Grayton questioned, finally sitting down. "What's the problem?"

"Minor inconvenience." Charles shook his head as cracks began to appear on the floor and walls and the entire floor started to shake. "Seems that the big fella had been holdin' up the buildin' since the foundations decayed. Probably hollowed out the walls too."

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"Makes sense" Grayton nodded, unfazed. "You're not gonna tell me to find my own way out of this or some bullshit like that, right?"

"Of course not." Charles chuckled. "Even I'm not that cruel."

"That's a relief."

Grayton relaxed his body as the floor caved under him and the ceiling above crumbled. As he fell, Charles melted into a puddle of goo once more and formed a protective capsule around him, shielding him from rubble but obscuring his vision as well. Before he knew it, Grayton was lying on a cold surface, unharmed. He could see the hole in the floors he fell through and the red-ish sky above through the broken roof.

"Looks like I'm in some sort of basement?" He thought, counting the amount of floors he fell through before standing up. As he shifted his body around he saw a shocking sight. "Huh?"

He was standing on white silver tiles. They were pristinely clean, aside from the rubble, as if someone cleaned it out routinely.

"Hoo-boy! Looks like we found somethin' good!" Charles commented, creeping out of the darkness. "This is where I sensed the rift originally appear, but ever since that last undying kick the bucket, it suddenly disappeared."

"Hmm." Grayton looked around. Something was wrong with this place. It looked like just another lab, but both his body and mind were reacting negatively to the environment. It felt disgustingly familiar. "Just like that time with the leviathan..."

"That's not normal, mind ya." Charles continued. "Normally rifts continue to spawn undyings for twenty eight hours and only after killin' everythin' it throws out will it finally cease."

"Shut up for a second." Grayton said. Just what was it that put his mind at such unease? Around him were what appeared to be lab equipment in pristine conditions: drawers containing vials and syringes, sophisticated machines, and much more. While looking, Grayton saw what seemed to be a gateway-shaped machine. The borders of the machine were made off a silvery metal, and there were tubes connecting to them that stemmed from two box containers.

"That's... Heheh, what a mess." Charles said. "Whoever built this is a real nutjob."

Grayton stepped closer to the contraption, examining the box containers. He swung open the plastic lid and instantly recoiled from a waft of what smelt like rotten flesh from the container.

"Mmph." Grayton's eyebrows scrunched together, displeased. He looked closer and saw that the box was filled with transparent plastic-looking orbs, glowing a faint red. It didn't take a genius to figure out what these were.

"So it's an artificial rift, huh? That explains the running power." Grayton said as he picked out one of the orbs to examine closer. That's when he spotted a logo on the orb. "What kind of idiot puts their brand on incriminating evidence?"

Bringing the orb near, he found that the words: "Altria." had been layered on the orb in a ornate black font. He paid no mind to it, simply noting it in his memory until a surge of memory ran through his brain. His eyes went wide and his body tensed up as he felt the revolting sensation work its way up from his stomach.

"Kid? What's wrong?" Charles's concerned voice faded away as his vision shifted back and forth between present and past, producing an intense migraine.

He clutched his head tightly before the memory fully swallowed him.

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"H-hey, Grayton? I know its a scavenger hunt and all but I don't think we should be here..." Vincent sheepishly said as the two walked down a dimly lit hallway. His younger self had the same hairstyle as he did now but shorter hair, and was missing his cloak and opaque glasses. His hazel eyes darted between the whitewashed walls and Grayton's back.

"C'mon! Didn't you hear what they said? The eggs are hidden around the whooole park!" Grayton chirped. His past self had a buzz cut and wore grey suspenders.

"Yeah but still! We've gone at least two floors underground and this doesn't look like the amusement park anymore it looks like... looks like..."

Grayton swung open the door in front of them confidently, revealing a room with clean white tiles and equipment strewn about.

"A lab..."

"It's fineee~" Grayton said, walking further into the room. "I'm sure there's one hidden here somewhere..."

"We're gonna get in so much trouble..." Vincent protested. Despite that, he continued to follow Grayton deeper into the facility.

"Does Altria mean anything?" Grayton suddenly asked.

"Huh? Altria? Why?" Vincent stammered, caught off guard by the question. In response, Grayton pointed at a desk on the other side of the room, where the words "Altria research and development" were inscribed in huge text.

"Oh yeah, we're screwed." Vincent shook his head. "I don't think we're in the amusement park anymore."

Grayton thought for a moment, re-reading the text over and over again before speaking up.

"Yeah I guess I was wrong." He admitted. "Calm down though, I remember the way back."

"We went through a lot of doors to get here..."

"Yeah, yeah. Remembering something like that is a piece of cake with a brain like mine!" Grayton boasted with a smug grin. "Now let's go out while-"

The two suddenly heard a voice.

"H-hello? I can't believe I finally reached somebody! C-can you hear me?"

Weirdly enough, the voice seemed to be projected straight into their heads. It was a child-like feminine voice, with a hint of strain behind it, as if the person behind the message was struggling to breathe.

"Did you... hear that?" Grayton said as he turned to Vincent.

"Y-yeah..." Vincent nodded.

Upon hearing that, an intrigued grin formed on his face. "We hear you. Who are you?"

"I... I don't know! Please, help me! You have to go deeper into the facility; they won't let me leave!"

"I see..." Grayton said. He started to fast-walk toward the only other door in the room. "Tell us where to go, I'll try to help."

"Y-you have to get me out of here! Just keep walking, I'll tell you when to hide."

"Gray?" Vincent asked with a worried note. He stood still at the doorway, refusing to follow. "I think we should just leave..."

Grayton raised his eyebrow, turning his head into the direction of his hesitating friend. "What? If there's someone that needs help shouldn't we help them?"

“What?” Present Grayton thought. That response was something he hadn’t expected. “Why? Trespassing is already a crime and this is obviously a dangerous pursuit! Agh, isn’t this my memory? Why can’t I tell what I was thinking?”

"H-hey! Use your head for once! We're not even supposed to be here, and you want to keep going because some voice in our head tells you to?" Vincent raised his voice but at the same time tried to keep his volume low to avoid alerting anyone. "Let's just go back, please?"

“Yeah, you tell him!” Present Grayton cheered for Vincent.

"Nuh uh!" Grayton stuck his tongue out. Realising his friend won't budge from the corridor, he continued to walk and open the door in front of him.

"Goody two-shoes..." Vincent grumbled as he turned to walk in the opposite direction.

The walls and ceiling started to wobble as he walked, melding together into a broth of blurry colours.

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Soon enough, the sea of colours reconstructed itself into a coherent scenery, where Grayton found his younger self in front of a pair of silver doors. He pushed the door open slightly, peeking through the opening to see a familiar room.

“What the hell is this…” Grayton thought. He immediately recognized the room. It was the same room he had seen in a previous memory. But this time, he could see everything clearer.

He could see the texture of the white walls, the machines and equipment strewn around the hospital bed straight ahead from the doors, but most importantly, he could clearly see the person strapped on the bed.

It was a pale, malnourished-looking girl. There were tight restraints on her ankles, hands, waist, and neck, preventing any sort of movement. There were dozens of IV bags connected to her, each with a different liquid. Despite looking no older than Grayton at the time, there were dozens of white streaks on her overgrown, messy purple hair.

Her complexion was that of a person who hadn’t sleep in days and her hollow eyes gazed at the empty ceiling. They seemed to have been originally pink-coloured, but they were already so drained of their colours that they were almost grey.

“Did they capture a witch?” The sight filled Grayton with immense pity and disgust. He would imagine it shocked his younger self even worse. “I wonder what kind of expression I had here.”

Not long after he opened the door, the girl spoke in his mind once again. “Oh! You’re finally here! Please, let me out! I don’t know how much longer-”

Before Grayton could do anything, a group of men wearing lab coats burst into the room from an entrance out of sight. All of them wore expressions of varying levels of distress.

“This is not good!” One of them said, furiously swiping at some sort of tablet computer. He was bald and wore black glasses. “Our defenses are failing! Those beasts will break containment soon!”

“Uh, according to company policy, in the event of an uncontrollable outbreak, the controlled explosives around the facility will be detonated, eliminating the contaminant and wiping away all the evidence.” One of the younger scientists said. He had jet-black hair and brown eyes.

“That’ll kill us all!” Another one yelled, throwing a pile of notes on the ground. “I knew manifesting otherworldly monsters we do not understand yet won’t end well! I warned all of you!”

“Gentlemen!” The researcher at the very front of the group said sternly. He had short, well-kept blonde hair and seemed to have a higher position indicated by a small emblem embroidered on his coat. “Everyone calm down, I’m trying to come up with a solution here!”

“What is there to do anymore?”

The blonde researcher grabbed a collection of flasks from a nearby cabinet and gestured at the girl.

“We’re doing this one more time, but this time, we’ll do a full treatment.” He explained as he methodically mixed the contents of the flasks into multiple beakers.

“No! No! They’re going to do it again!” The girl squealed in Grayton’s mind. Despite her apparent distress, her body stayed completely still.

“That’s… Are you sure it’ll work?” The bald scientist asked.

“It has to.”

“Y-you’re insane!” Another agitated researcher called out. “The success rate-”

“She’s our only hope.” The blonde man interrupted. “If this works, she’ll at least be able to shield us from the blast.”

The rest of the researchers gave a collective non-commital grunt as they got to work.

“However, the hard truth that according to statistics, this will be our last experiment stays the same, therefore…” The blonde man turned on a nearby computer screen, opening some sort of database and activating the cameras around the room. “Compose yourselves, men. Let us document our demise to the best of our ability for the sake of our successors.”

“Do something!” The girl pleaded. “I need to- You can’t let them do that to me! Not again! Not again!”

“This procedure will be mind-shatteringly painful, if not straight up lethal; nothing compared to the treatments- no tortures we put her through before.” The bald researcher stated. He closed his eyes and hesitated for a moment, before opening them again and continuing. “I’ve committed too many sins past the point of redemption… What’s another drop in the bucket?”

For the first time since Grayton came, the girl’s body jumped to life, twitching and straining against her restraints. Her gaze tore away from the empty ceiling and met with Grayton’s, only to find that his was just as terrified as hers.

“Help me!” She sobbed.

“Even if I wanted to,” Grayton thought, attempting to move his body. As expected, it was frozen in place. Whether or not it was the stress getting to his younger self or the shock being too much, one thing was for sure: He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Uh, I haven’t really done anything bad but…” The young researcher spoke. He was furiously noting down everything that was happening in the room into the database. "After working just a fleeting two years with you all, I've come to respect all of you and the sacrifices all of you did for this job... Even if I haven't contributed that well..."

He paused for a moment, visibly tearing up as he continued to type. "Well what I want to say is that it's an honour to die with all of you."

For a moment every other researcher stopped whatever they were working on and turned to look at the young researcher. Smiling sadly, they quickly returned to their duties. A loud alarm started blaring throughout the facility, and countless groans and howls echoed through the halls, reminding the researchers of the urgency of their situation, and so they stopped talking, opting to dedicate all their focus to finishing their work.

The girl continued to plead and sob, even going so far as to shout desperately into Grayton's mind, and she was getting less and less coherent as her sentences started to overlap upon each other the closer the scientist got to finishing the preparations. Now, he was starting to hear a sharp ringing and felt a headache bubbling up in his head along with her voice, though he did not know if that was intentional on her part or she was really losing control.

Despite reassuring himself over and over again, he could not help but be affected by the desperate cries as a knot started to form in his stomach. He was starting to lose his sense of self and his consciousness continued to sync with his past self, allowing him to feel firsthand for the second time, the full weight of the terror he felt.

Faced with this, all he could do was desperately repeat in his mind. "What can I do?" All the while his body was frozen at the doorway.

The scientists breathed a collective sigh of relief as they each finished their work. They gathered in the middle of the room. Each of them brought an airtight test tube filled with different liquids and inserted them into a robotic appendage.

"You weren't being stingy with the materials while making this, were you?" The blonde researcher asked sarcastically when it was the bald researcher's turn to insert his tube.

"I used what I needed to use." The man smiled. "Would be a shame to waste materials in case we need them next time."

"Next time, huh?" The blonde man chuckled. "How optimistic."

Once all the researchers finished inserting their tubes, the head researcher started to input commands into a nearby keyboard. His eyes were practically glued to the screen as he typed, and his coworkers stared at him with tense expressions.

For a while, the only noise present in the room was the clacking of the keys the man was hitting. That was until, he broke the silence.

"As you all know, we've been conducting tests to stimulate the mana vessels over the past few months." The man said, typing away at the machine. "However, we always made sure to keep the risk of the subject dying to the minimum because of the lack of means to acquire new ones."

After hitting a few final keys, the words "Begin Procedure?" flashed green on the screen. "This time, we will be overloading the mana vessels to hopefully forcibly awaken a surge of magic. In the most ideal outcome, we would be able to control this surge of magic, but even if this experiment succeeds at all, she will likely still be in control. That will still be an adequate outcome, though."

"I understand that this... whole operation was and still is an immoral pursuit and that the ends do not justify the means." He continued. "And that is why I ask of you: Since we will most likely die as a result of this experiment, and on the off chance that the explosives do not destroy enough and our corpses are discovered, if any one of you would like to claim no hand in this and run away to die somewhere else, please, go ahead. Some of you have families and though nothing will prevent our most certain demise, I'd understand if you would rather be remembered as a respectable scientist rather than a nutjob cultist."

Surprisingly, the rest of the researchers all shook their heads and not one of them made any attempt to leave. They had grim yet determined expressions on their faces and some of them even scoffed lightly.

"Well looks like we all drew our lots a long time ago." The blonde researcher shrugged, holding his finger over the enter key. "In the name of science."

"In the name of science." The rest of them repeated, prompting him to press down and initiate the procedure. The machine made a whirring noise and twitched for a moment, readjusting and mixing the liquids from each tube before a long syringe protruded from the end of the appendage. It stretched its metallic joints and made its way to its first destination: the girl's eye.

"No, no, no! Let me go!" The girl squirmed and whimpered meekly before coming into eye-contact with the wide-eyed Grayton "You! Do something-"

Without warning, the syringe needle plunged into her left eye, as soon as it made contact, the girl screamed, both physically and into his mind, assaulting both his ears and mind. The sound of the doubled guttural screaming, combined with the continuous incoherent pleading and the ringing, produced a familiar, unholy cacophony of noise that assaulted Grayton's mind.

"ᶰIͦ ᶰdͦoᶰnͦ'ᶰtͦ ᵖwˡaͤnͣˢtͤ ᵖtˡoͤ ͣˢdͤiᵖeˡ!ͤ ͣˢIͤ ᵖdˡoͤnͣˢ'ͤt ͥwͭanͪtͧ ͬtͭˢo ͥdͭieͪ!ͧ ͬIͭˢ dͥoͭn'ͪtͧ ͬwͭˢaˢnͣtͮ ͤtoͫ ͤdie!"

Grayton watched with pitied eyes, struggling to maintain some form of composure as emotions flooded through him and his past self. All he could do was watch with wide-eyes as the girl seemed to have locked his muscles in place. He felt immensely sorry for the girl but both he and his younger self were rapidly losing the capacity for sympathy as burning pain and white noise seared through their brain, wreaking havoc on their mental state.

The pain was endless and all-encompassing. It felt like ants were crawling into his ears and eyes and violently exploded once inside. It felt like a burning hot stake was being run up his spine, and there, Grayton finally understood. His mind was being overloaded, resulting in a memory wipe. His body never forgot the pain, though.

The girl was trapped in a hell of pain and seemed determined to let Grayton have a taste of it.

The syringe moved from one eye to another, before going down and penetrating her neck, abdomen, and other areas. With each injection, the screams got louder and more distraught, going past milestones and expectations with each scream. After what was in reality just a few minutes but felt like an eternity, all the noise... stopped.

The researchers who had buried their heads into the floor and covered their eyes slowly rose and looked at each other with anticipation and uncertainty.

"Did it work?" The blonde researcher asked, making his way to a nearby vitals monitor. "Vitals look stable... Gentlemen, I believe we can call this experiment, a success-"

Before he could finish talking, one of his coworker's head bloated and expanded before exploding violently, spraying grey matter and viscera all over the nearby equipment and the other researchers. It took a few seconds for the researchers to process what just happened, but when they did, panic ensued. One by one, the researchers' heads began to explode into gory mist. Some were screaming, some were praying, the blonde researcher and the bald one shared a look with one another before letting out a humourless laugh as their turn came.

In just a few seconds, the room transformed from an ultra clean, sterile working environment into a scene straight out of a horror movie.

"Ah... Ahh!" Grayton fell to his knees, clutching his head just like he remembered. He stayed there on the ground, speechless. For a moment, all he did was simply stare at the growing pool of blood and the corpses of the scientists. It was when the crimson puddle touched his fingertips did he snap awake from this trance.

He looked up and in the process locked eyes with the girl one last time. There was blood and bits of brain strewn about her face and hospital gown. Her expression was that of resignation while Grayton's was that of shock and disbelief. His younger self's face scrunched up as he attempted to say something, but couldn't seem to get the words out, resulting in pathetic stammering.

"It's understandable." Grayton thought. "I was just a kid... Probably never even dreamt of seeing this kind of stuff... But so is she."

A fine white mist started to flow from the hospital bed, encapsulating the entire room in mere moments. The last thing Grayton felt before the fog reached him was the resentment and disgust boiling up deep within his younger self. And soon enough, he found himself back in the present.

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"Kid? Kid! Snap out of it!" Charles said as he physically shook Grayton's body.

"Huh? O-oh!" Grayton jolted awake, still dazed from the experience. He looked around to make sure where he was and examined himself, realising that he had perspired so much the sweat had almost washed away the filth on his body and clothes. "That girl... Who is she?"

"What the happened there? Ya blanked out for a good while!" Charles said, his distorted voice sounded genuinely concerned.

"I... remembered something unpleasant." Grayton said, bending over to pick up the orb he dropped in his daze. "Altria... I saw this brand a long time ago. They had something to do with the terrorist attack six years ago, I think."

"What?" Charles's avatar tilted its head.

"They... Nevermind." Lacking the energy and brain capacity to explain the full story, he turned away and started rummaging nearby cabinets for anything that might give extra context to the situation. "This... I need to find whoever's behind all of this."

"Slow down, buddy." Charles said. "Ya can barely stand straight!"

It was true, Grayton had to use his left hand to hold on to the top of the cabinet as he rummaged through its insides with his free hand in order to keep himself upright. His breathing was ragged and irregular and his vision blurred every now and then. Not to mention, without Charles clamping his wounds shut, he would be bleeding out right now.

"I know." He growled. Panting, he grabbed a stack of documents out of the cabinet before attempting to move on to another. However, Charles suddenly moved in his way.

"Times up, kid; we got company." Charles said..

"What?"

A soft sound like a bubble popping sounded from the floor above behind him, causing him to jerk his head back. There he spotted a red-haired girl, wearing a mask that resembled a small triangular shield with eye holes that fit on her face. The mask seemed to have a smooth, chitinous texture and was bronze in colour with a hint of gold within its seams.

"C-clara! There's someone here!" She called out to someone out of view, her frilly orange skirt jerked with her as she turned.

"I can't risk being seen yet!"

"Tch." Grayton ran deeper into the facility and behind a cabinet. Once he was sure he was out of sight, he conjured a portal leading to Keyla's treehouse. He winced as he realised that Charles wouldn't be able to follow him into the portal. "I'll bleed, but I'm out of options."

He dove into the portal, abandoning his chilly bandages.

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"I'm sorry, I couldn't see his face clearly, but he was definitely wearing a grey trench coat." Aisha reported, bowing her head slightly in case her squad leader was displeased. "He also seemed to be talking to this... mass of black goo. It had quite the unnerving presence; I got goosebumps just being near it."

Christopher raised his eyebrow though nobody noticed as they all donned the aegis mask. "Black goo? Did it have a bone mask as a face and blue flames for eyes?"

"I can't confirm the eyes but it definitely wore a pale white mask."

"Why? What does that mean?" Clarabelle looked anxiously between her two teammates.

"Charon." Christopher said. "He's been on Aegis's shit-list for years, now but no one's been able to take him out for good... Not that Aegis tried very hard to subjugate him though, since he seemed content just butchering witches and witches only. They only put a bounty on him for diplomatic reasons, I bet. But the grey trench coat.... That's a problem. It's probably him... The Ghost."

"You sure are jumping to conclusions" Clarabelle criticised. "Why does it have to be him? It could be someone else wearing the same thing. Grey trench coats aren't exclusive to criminals, y'know? They're quite stylish."

"Let me get this straight, you're telling me, you think there's another rogue mage not only wearing the same coat but also sharing the same knack for disappearing into thin air, Clarabelle?" Christopher walked closer to Clarabelle.

"...Fair point." The girl said before tip-toeing to flick Christopher on his forehead. "And how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Clara! Cla-ra, Cla-ra! How hard is it?"

She pulled her hand back and caressed her middle finger. She quickly realised that slamming an unprotected fingernail onto a hard surface was not the best of ideas.

"Ow..."

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