[AGAIN, DR. MAYHEW?] C.H.A.D.D. asked, disappointment bleeding through the robotic voice.
Kyle swore as the drop of highly concentrated acid brushed his finger, leaving a dot of sizzling flesh. Working with the sundew acid was dangerous, as it was one of the few substances that didn’t seem to care about Kyle’s Enhanced Carapace one bit. Even after his training in the acid baths during the first phase of his Practicum and receiving his Ferric Augmentation, the acid seemed perfectly designed to eat right through him.
That exact property is also what made it such a dangerous tool. Kyle was holding a pen made of mana-reinforced bamboo, which contained a small bit of sundew petal. C.H.A.D.D. continually regrew the bamboo, and compressed the sundew petal to make a thin trail of the secretions, which Kyle was using to eat through the sturdy door and shift the inscriptions.
Kyle was by no means an inscription expert like Jarberry, but one of the earliest lessons he’d received from the imp was a near-universal constant; it’s easier to destroy than to create. Kyle may have been able to get a similar result by slathering large quantities of acid all over the door, but that also risked triggering any other hidden traps, or destroying whatever was behind the door.
Jarberry encouraged a subtler touch, shifting the meaning of inscriptions where possible to change the effects. Kyle’s goal was to disarm the formations, while leaving the option to re-arm intact. These inscriptions were already made with the ability to be disarmed in mind, which according to Jarberry was one of the biggest flaws of any security system. To him, anything that was designed to be opened and closed was always a weak point.
Typically, the components associated with disarming were tuned to a particular key or mana signature. All Kyle had to do was get them to attune to his, and he’d be able to get in and out without destroying the door, or allowing others to enter. The simple fact that it still existed despite the presence of behemoths like the one he fought meant that it would be a worthwhile hiding place, if nothing else.
A couple of hours later, he finished the final etching. Between identification, growing the appropriate implement, planning the changes, and making the inscriptions, he’d taken all morning and into the early afternoon. Any monitored security in the universe would have been all over him in the time it took to disarm, but Kyle was still proud of his work. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast, Kyle thought, echoing Frank Santos’ words in his mind. Speed would come with practice and experience.
He breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt the mana suffusing the door deactivate, allowing him to push it open with minor effort. Note to self, always leave a mechanical lock. In worlds full of incredible powers, people often forgot about the everyday, mundane things that could prevent a lot of trouble. A deadbolt, in this case.
The first thing that Kyle noticed as he descended into the lower floor was the smell. This place had been sealed for a long, long time. The musty, earthy scent was overpowering, and the gentle orange lights C.H.A.D.D. provided illuminated clouds of disturbed dust. It didn’t look like a bedroom, nor did it give the appearance of a medical lab. 2 large desks sat in opposite corners of the expansive room, with shelves upon shelves of books in between. There did appear to be some scientific equipment, though Kyle was unsure of the use. Several large, comfortable-looking chairs were strewn about. A study of some kind, Kyle surmised.
Why the study was so heavily guarded was a mystery to him, though he suspected the answers lie in some of the numerous books. “C.H.A.D.D., does anything stick out to you? Any books or items that are grabbing your attention more than others?”
The drone took a moment before answering. [NO, DR. MAYHEW. EVERYTHING HERE APPEARS TO BE MUNDANE IN NATURE, AND WITHOUT EXAMINING THE CONTENTS IN DETAIL, I AM UNABLE TO PROVIDE AN ANALYSIS.]
Kyle nodded, feeling much the same. The situation was both fascinating and frustrating. If he had a month or 2 to settle in and read unbothered, he could likely get through most of the material. For all of them to be protected so heavily was a testament to the value of the tomes contained within, at least to the late king. While Kyle largely agreed that some knowledge was worth protecting, right now he would have preferred a large, mana-infused orb with an inscription saying ‘This is Important.’
“C.H.A.D.D., I’m going to start with the desks, then move to the bookshelves. Do you have enough memory to archive each page if I flip through them slowly? Then we can come back to any books that have anything particularly noteworthy.”
[THAT SHOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM, DR. MAYHEW. I WILL ALSO MARK THE BOOKS AS WE COMPLETE THEM TO ENSURE THAT WE DO NOT LEAVE ANYTHING BEHIND.]
With that, the duo got to work. The journals on and around the first desk seemed to have been penned by an assistant of the king’s, and largely consisted of reports on the political environment in Er’Mithren and the surrounding areas. Consistent with what D’Oillelat shared with him, the names of dissidents were mentioned time and time again. The journals then expanded to full dossiers on the most prominent among the dissidents, including an entry for a familiar name. Pall’Eth… Kyle was interested in learning more about how the goblin had been involved, but decided to set that aside for now. There was a lot of information to sift through, and he’d revisit what he could once he had it all uploaded.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The other desk was more organized, and the notes and journals appeared to be Rai’lenelat’s own. He tried to stay objective, but from even the glances he’d taken, he felt his anger rising against the deposed king. At the same time, sadness welled for D’Oillelat. Rai’lenelat wasn’t misinformed, misunderstood, or misled. His notes painted a picture that he knew exactly what he was doing.
One thing that Kyle still didn’t understand, however, was a consistent mention of a teacher throughout the king’s writings. D’Oillelat never mentioned anything, but from what Kyle could see this mysterious instructor was involved in aspects of the planning on a regular basis. There was never any note about discussions they had, or who this person was, just that the teacher had advice, or recommended a test. The odds were slim, but there was a chance that one of the king’s co-conspirators was still alive.
That information may be worth something to the current government of Er’Mithren. Depending on the information they had, they may even be able to determine the identity of the mysterious figure. Given their hatred for Rai’lenelat and his atrocities, the idea of taking down another member of his regime may at least bring them to the negotiating table.
Finally, it was time to move to the bookshelves. Both sets of journals and notes referenced experiment data, and this was the most common type of book that was left. Dozens upon dozens of volumes sharing experiment data of various types, all of it abhorrent to Kyle. Still, he continued to flip through the pages as C.H.A.D.D. dutifully documented everything that they were uncovering.
Even before the experimentation with D’Oillelat’s blood, there were myriad examples of other experiments, many of which were conducted on an unknowing populace. Even the thought made Kyle’s blood boil. Though he was loathe to admit it, he was beginning to understand more of the people’s visceral response against the king. If even a fraction of the information came to light, he had no doubt a revolution was inevitable.
A few hours later, they were finally done. Kyle, of course, had only read small snippets, while C.H.A.D.D. scanned and filed the full content. There were a lot of questions left unanswered, and he hoped that with the drone’s help, he’d get a clearer picture over the next few days.
“C.H.A.D.D., would you mind starting by looking for any type of pathogen-related experiments? Maybe include poisons as well? If we can, I’d like to track down Vel’Norn and his village, and see if we can help.”
[CERTAINLY, DR. MAYHEW, IF YOU BELIEVE THIS IS THE WISEST COURSE OF ACTION.]
Kyle raised an eyebrow at that. “What would you suggest?”
[OTHER THAN FOCUSING MORE RESOURCES ON REPLENISHING THE STORED MANA IN THE WORLD TREE SEED AND GROWING MORE SEEDS FOR MY COLLECTION?]
“Yes, C.H.A.D.D., other than that.”
[THERE ARE MANY NOTES HERE REGARDING THE CREATION OF THE SAME TYPE OF MONSTER THAT WAS PURSUING THE GOBLIN. IF WE CAN BETTER UNDERSTAND IT, AND ITS WEAKNESSES, YOU MAY NOT BE IN SO MUCH DANGER WHEN WE ENCOUNTER THE NEXT.]
“And why are you so certain we’ll be fighting another one?” Kyle asked defensively.
[BECAUSE YOU HAVE DEVELOPED AN UNFORTUNATE HABIT OF FIGHTING LARGE NUMBERS OF POWERFUL CREATURES.]
“Hey now, that’s hardly –“ Kyle started, before the drone interrupted.
[ALSO BECAUSE YOU HAVE A HABIT OF GETTING PERSONALLY INVOLVED IN THE PROBLEMS OF OTHERS. BECAUSE YOUR MANA HAD A SIMILAR REACTION THAT IT DID BEFORE WE HUNTED THE STYXLIONS. AND FINALLY, BECAUSE WHEN YOU LEARN MORE ABOUT THE DETAILS OF THEIR CREATION, YOU WILL NOT WANT TO LEAVE ANY OF THEM ALIVE.]
C.H.A.D.D.’s last words sent a chill down Kyle’s spine. He understood, fundamentally, that these creatures were the byproduct of unwilling human experimentation, but that was about the extent of it.
Kyle took a moment, and when he replied, his voice was low, dangerous. “What do you mean, C.H.A.D.D.?”
[THERE ARE STILL MANY RECORDS FOR ME TO ANALYZE, HOWEVER ONE THEME HAS BECOME CLEAR. THE CREATURE THAT YOU FOUGHT IS NOT A NATURALLY OCCURING ONE.]
Kyle let that sink in, with all the implications it carried.
C.H.A.D.D. continued. [THEY ARE A BYPRODUCT OF EXPERIMENTATION DONE ON THE DISSIDENTS THROUGHOUT THE KINGDOM, AS WELL AS OTHER CITIZENS WHO HAD GONE MISSING. THE CREATURE IS AN AMALGAMATION OF SEVERAL DIFFERENT PEOPLE, SURGICALLY AND MAGICALLY FUSED INTO THE ABOMINATION YOU FOUGHT. WHILE I AM STILL STUDYING THE SPECIFICS, THESE ARE THE MONSTERS THAT RAI’LENELAT SOUGHT TO CONTROL THROUGH HIS DAUGHTER’S ABILITIES.]
A mix of emotions washed over Kyle at that news. Rage, at the fate of Rai’lenelat’s victims. Sorrow, for the suffering they’d undergone, and the suffering that was still to come from them. Conviction, that he was going to give every single one of them peace.
“Thank you, C.H.A.D.D. We’re leaving,” Kyle finally said, turning toward the stairs leading out of the room.
[WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO CONTINUE IN YOUR ORIGINAL LINE OF STUDY, OR PURSUE THE ONE I SUGGESTED?]
“Find me their weaknesses, and if possible, any methods to kill them quickly. If these monsters are truly what’s left of the citizens Rai’lenelat captured, I want them to be put to rest with as little suffering as possible.”
[UNDERSTOOD, DR. MAYHEW.]
The sun was setting as Kyle stepped back out into the ruins, and he felt a shadow over him as he made his way back to their original camp, the crevice inside the impact crater. Even though he knew he should eat, the revelations of the day left him with no appetite. He took out Jarberry’s tomes to practice, and fell far short of his previous day’s record.
With a sigh, Kyle settled in the space and closed his eyes. He knew sleep was going to be distant, but he tried to settle his mind and heart anyway. His distraction was more than just the lack of humanity on the part of the former king. His Core of the Parasitic Devourer had a taste for these abominations; these people. He’d tried to be careful, especially lately, and yet now a part of him would be nourished by their deaths.
Kyle knew that putting them out of their misery was the right thing to do. He knew that, even if his core didn’t benefit, he still would have to try. He knew that he was different than the king who so callously sacrificed his own citizens chasing a vain dream of grandeur. He knew all of this, but it didn’t shake the sadness that he felt, that something he’d tried to protect had been lost.
Tomorrow, he would get back up. He would fight. He would move forward. He would survive. But not tonight. Tonight, he would take a moment to mourn for the innocents who lost their lives to be transformed into abominations. He would mourn for the grim work he had to do. And he would mourn for the small pieces of his own humanity he felt slipping away in the process.
