The monitors chimed one after another.
"All vital indicators are returning to normal. Geiger counter readings are stable. No signs of continued flesh expansion. Pilot consciousness confirmed..."
The emblem of the Ouroboros was embroidered across the white robes of the researchers as countless figures hurried around the Black Angel, weaving back and forth beneath the towering suit.
Lloyd barely had time to savor his success.
The moment everyone realized he could actually control the Black Angel, the scientists who had been hiding behind reinforced shelters flooded back into the chamber. They pressed every manner of strange instrument against his armor, recording wave after wave of data with barely restrained excitement.
"You're a miracle, Lloyd."
A mechanical arm descended with a slow metallic groan. Merlin steadied himself against one of its protruding braces before climbing until he stood above the colossal armor.
"Every previous test pilot died. The flesh simply consumed and digested them, as though this Divine Armor possessed a will of its own—killing those who entered and feeding upon their remains." He studied Lloyd carefully before continuing. "Perhaps it's because you also carry the Holy Grail's flesh. Maybe... it mistakes you for one of its own."
"Being recognized as kin by a demon hardly sounds reassuring."
Lloyd's muffled voice echoed from behind the steel faceplate.
He had no intention of enjoying any of this.
"Pressure levels are normal. The corruption doesn't seem to have intensified after it awakened..." He followed Merlin's line of reasoning as he examined his own condition. "Or perhaps I'm considered one of its kind, so I have some resistance."
He flexed slightly.
"My body's itching. I can't find any of the control levers. If I remember correctly, the Old Era Divine Armors relied on them for some functions, didn't they?"
His experience piloting Old Era Divine Armor was limited. He only remembered fragments from the Weaponsmith manuals he had studied years ago.
At their core, the Old Era Divine Armors were demons fused with machinery.
Human consciousness replaced the monster's mind, seizing control of a body never meant to obey mankind.
The armor itself was enormous, crushingly heavy, driven jointly by steam engines and the living strength of demonic flesh. Once inside, neural electrodes pierced the pilot and linked directly to the creature's nervous system, binding two separate lives together so that human will could command an inhuman body.
Which was precisely why piloting one was so dangerous.
The moment the connection formed, the pilot's consciousness was laid completely bare before the demon. Ordinary people lasted only moments before corruption devoured their minds. Only specially augmented Knights possessed even a chance of enduring the strain.
Ironically, operating the armor itself required little technical skill.
Once the synchronization was complete, the Divine Armor became no different from another body. Moving it felt as natural as raising one's own arm.
The only exception lay in the machinery.
The technology behind the Perpetual Pump had never advanced far enough to let consciousness manipulate mechanical systems directly. As a result, countless tiny levers and switches still had to be crammed into the already suffocating cockpit, most of them concentrated around the pilot's hands for convenience.
"We disabled those functions for safety."
Merlin answered matter-of-factly.
"To preserve the armor's combat effectiveness, we normally mount external equipment—Divine Armor firearms, grappling launchers, and various other weapons. But everything was removed during testing, so those controls are currently useless."
His expression suddenly sharpened.
"Still... don't press anything carelessly. Some of those switches regulate the steam engine."
"So... what am I supposed to do now?"
Lloyd couldn't help asking.
The cockpit was an unpleasant place to remain.
Viscous flesh wrapped tightly around him while sticky fluids slowly trickled across his body. Stranger still, something gripped his back—not the electrodes this time, but newly grown flesh that seemed to have fused him directly into the armor itself.
He hadn't even begun processing everything he'd witnessed within the Stagnant Sanctuary after traveling through the Gap.
At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to finish Merlin's tests and crawl out of this living prison.
"Raise your hand," Merlin instructed, signaling everyone else to retreat from the Black Angel.
"Try controlling the armor. It'll probably feel clumsy at first. That's perfectly normal."
Once the researchers had withdrawn to a safe distance, Lloyd focused.
The sensation was... extraordinary.
He and the Black Angel had become connected.
The armor was no longer something he wore.
It was another body.
The moment he thought about lifting his arm, the familiar command flowed through his nerves, activating muscles and pulling bones upward. At precisely the same time, that identical command surged through the demon's flesh. Twisted muscle contracted beneath layers of steel, dragging the colossal limb skyward until the blade-covered arm slowly rose into the air.
The unfamiliar sensation nearly overwhelmed him.
The visor allowed only a narrow field of view, leaving him unable to see most of his own movements.
Instead...
He felt them.
He could feel every iron feather brushing against another.
Those razor-sharp feathers were not attached afterward—they had grown directly from the living flesh itself, metallic shells concealing nerves beneath their polished surfaces.
"Don't make any large movements!"
Merlin shouted again.
This time, however, his voice sounded noticeably farther away.
He had climbed several more meters up the mechanical arm, wisely deciding that putting additional distance between himself and the Black Angel was in everyone's best interest.
Among alchemists, Merlin's swordsmanship could be considered respectable.
Unfortunately, that only qualified him to intimidate colleagues whose lungs had been ruined by years of inhaling poisonous chemicals.
Against an Old Era Divine Armor...
He stood absolutely no chance.
Everyone watched in silent awe.
From the day it had first been created, the Black Angel had carried an unmistakable aura of calamity.
Only two people had ever served as its pilot.
Only three activation records existed.
The first had been Galahad.
The result had been catastrophic.
Corruption overwhelmed him during synchronization, leaving him unconscious. Even now he remained incapable of piloting the armor again, his body and mind permanently scarred by the ordeal.
Now...
Lloyd had become its second master.
And just like the previous two activations, this awakening unfolded beneath an atmosphere so bizarre that no one present could shake the feeling they were witnessing something forbidden.
"Continue moving," Merlin instructed. "Small motions."
His voice carried the calm confidence of someone intimately familiar with Divine Armor calibration.
Lloyd obeyed.
Slowly.
Patiently.
The unfamiliar body gradually ceased to feel foreign.
Movement after movement, the armor responded with increasing precision until, before he realized it, there no longer seemed to be any distinction between himself and the Black Angel.
The emerald indicator lights remained steadily illuminated.
Everything had stabilized.
Merlin checked the elapsed time before making another note.
"Your synchronization rate with the Black Angel is approaching one hundred percent."
He looked up.
"You should now be capable of using it at full capacity."
"What exactly does that mean?"
The unfamiliar term caught Lloyd's attention.
Old Era Divine Armor remained something of a mystery to him.
Compared to these colossal machines, Demon Hunters possessed far greater mobility. Their smaller size and flexibility made them ideal for silent assassinations within crowded cities, while Divine Armors demanded extensive transport infrastructure, dedicated support crews, and entire cleanup teams after deployment.
They were the Purging Agency's trump card.
Or at least they had been.
After Lloyd's appearance, Demon Hunters proved dramatically more practical in actual combat, pushing the cumbersome Divine Armors increasingly into the background.
Merlin had once taken that rather personally.
After spending decades advancing the Perpetual Pump's greatest weapon, he had been forced to admit that it still lagged behind the forbidden creations of the Gospel Church.
Eventually, however, he made peace with that reality.
Demon Hunters excelled at individual combat.
Divine Armors belonged on open battlefields.
"They're similar to the thresholds of your Secret Blood," Merlin explained. "Piloting a Divine Armor means your consciousness gradually assumes control over a demon's body. As synchronization increases, your mind aligns more completely with the flesh until you're able to command it freely."
He paused.
"But just like Secret Blood... there's a price."
His tone grew noticeably heavier.
"If synchronization exceeds one hundred percent..."
"...very bad things happen."
He hesitated before continuing.
"My guess is that the demon's consciousness begins taking control of the human instead."
"That's corruption."
"What exactly happens afterward... we don't know."
"We've never allowed any pilot to cross the red line."
"Everything beyond it is completely unknown."
"Interesting."
Lloyd nodded thoughtfully.
"It's not identical, but it really does resemble Secret Blood."
"It does," Merlin replied quietly.
"Because anything connected to demons... always demands a price."
With a grinding roar, the overhead crane came alive.
Heavy chains descended from above, swaying gently until they stopped beside the Black Angel.
Even through his restricted vision, Lloyd could make out the massive iron links approaching.
"Grab it."
Merlin gestured upward.
"This chamber isn't large enough for you to stretch your legs."
Lloyd hesitated before raising one enormous hand.
The living steel fingers closed tightly around the chain.
Moments later, the Black Angel was lifted from the ground once more.
This time, however, Merlin simply leapt onto the armor itself.
Countless lethal iron feathers covered its body, forcing him to choose his footing carefully before settling into one of the few safe spots. Resting one hand near the faceplate, he ascended alongside Lloyd as the enormous machine was guided onto an overhead rail system.
The entire armor began moving forward.
The underground passages varied wildly in size, and many corridors were simply too narrow for something as massive as an Old Era Divine Armor.
Freight rails were the only viable route.
"Where are we going?"
"The Workshop."
Merlin answered casually.
"There's far more space there. The defenses are considerably stronger too, making it the ideal place to collect live combat data."
He smiled faintly.
"And if your performance remains stable—if you can prove you won't lose control—we might even let you test it at the surface mines."
His tone was suspiciously relaxed.
Lloyd narrowed his eyes behind the visor.
"...How many times have you people done this?"
"What?"
Merlin looked puzzled.
"You mean the mines? Or the Workshop?"
He shrugged.
"This has always been the Perpetual Pump's testing procedure. Weapons are stabilized inside the laboratory first, transferred to the Workshop for larger-scale trials, and finally moved to the surface mines once they're proven safe."
"The industrial district is enormous."
"Nothing we do here will ever leak outside."
He frowned slightly.
In truth, he'd positioned himself so close for another reason entirely.
He wanted to experience the Black Angel's corruption firsthand.
According to the data, its corruption intensity ranked noticeably lower than other Divine Armors.
Judging from the instinctive revulsion he currently felt...
The measurements seemed accurate.
"...Lloyd."
Merlin's voice suddenly became serious.
"There's something I want to ask you."
"I'm listening."
Merlin glanced at the faceplate beside him.
Behind that steel mask stood Lloyd.
If Merlin possessed a sufficiently sharp sword, this angle would allow him to slip the blade cleanly through the gaps in the armor and kill Lloyd with a single thrust.
"...What happened while you were unconscious?"
The alchemist's expression grew unusually stern.
Back in the testing chamber, surrounded by so many researchers, he'd deliberately kept those concerns to himself.
After all...
Lloyd was, by nature, an unpredictable madman.
No one could guess what absurd thing he might decide to do next.
Especially after awakening something as mysterious as the Black Angel.
Merlin refused to believe everything had gone this smoothly.
Something had happened.
It had to have.
"...The Gap."
Lloyd hesitated only briefly.
"Gap traversal."
He decided against hiding it.
Merlin possessed knowledge Lloyd himself lacked.
Rather than conceal the truth, he wanted to see what conclusions the alchemist might reach.
"That's Lawrence's ability."
"I know."
"But somehow... using the Old Era Divine Armor allowed me to do it as well."
"I have no idea why."
Merlin's expression darkened.
"...Where did the Gap take you?"
An uneasy feeling settled over him.
Of every possibility he had imagined...
This had never crossed his mind.
Fortunately, Lloyd's unconsciousness had lasted only a short time.
Since he'd returned safely, Merlin had assumed nothing disastrous could have occurred.
"The Stagnant Sanctuary."
"...The..."
Merlin froze.
"...The Stagnant Sanctuary?"
He stared blankly.
"Wait."
"You went back there?"
"How is that even possible?"
"I did."
"Despite the distance, I reached it."
"It was exactly as I'd left it on the Night of Holy Descent."
"Ruined."
"Silent."
Lloyd intentionally omitted everything concerning the new Pope.
Some information was worth far more as bargaining chips.
"When you lost consciousness," Merlin muttered, almost to himself, "the Black Angel entered a completely abnormal state."
"Its corruption field expanded severalfold."
"It exceeded our observation range entirely."
His eyes narrowed.
"...Was that how it extended the transmission distance?"
Then—
Something clicked.
Merlin abruptly spun around and pressed himself against the freezing faceplate, trying desperately to peer through the narrow slit and glimpse Lloyd's face.
"No..."
"Wait..."
"Lloyd."
"You said..."
"...the Stagnant Sanctuary?"
Only now did the true implication strike him.
He looked as though he wanted to pry the faceplate open with his bare hands and drag Lloyd out by force.
"...You actually reached it?"
Inside the armor, Lloyd felt a chill run down his spine.
"...Yes."
"Gap traversal requires a beacon."
"It requires previous corruption."
"I've never been corrupted there."
"So why was I able to return?"
He fell into thought.
"...Unless..."
"...my connection to that place existed long before."
"Which would explain why that voice keeps echoing inside my mind."
"Why the Silver Shackles can always locate me..."
"No!"
Merlin almost shouted.
"None of that matters!"
For perhaps the first time in Lloyd's memory...
The alchemist looked genuinely shaken.
He had believed that after the Night of Holy Descent, every remaining mystery of the Gospel Church had been reduced to the Book of Revelation.
Now he realized...
He had been disastrously mistaken.
"We still don't fully understand how the Gap works."
"But one thing is almost certain."
"The Gap depends upon consciousness."
"And consciousness cannot exist without flesh to serve as its vessel."
His breathing slowed.
Every word landed with crushing weight.
"Which means..."
"...the Stagnant Sanctuary is alive."
The words exploded through Lloyd's mind like thunder.
Only then did he replay every moment of that impossible journey.
The signs had been obvious.
Painfully obvious.
Yet he had failed to notice them.
Even the birthplace of everything concealed secrets that no one had uncovered.
The Gospel Church...
What exactly were they hiding?
If the feeling before had been nothing more than a vague premonition...
Now it became absolute certainty.
Somewhere beyond the world lay a hidden truth, concealed beneath a vast and invisible veil.
And for the first time...
Someone had lifted one tiny corner of it.
The answer felt impossibly close.
Light suddenly poured down from above.
The freight rail carried both men into the Workshop, where an immense testing ground stretched beneath layers of iron and steel. Massive platforms shifted with slow mechanical precision as countless shafts of brilliant light descended from the ceiling, illuminating every corner of the colossal chamber.