Alistair scanned the room, his gaze darting from face to face. Most of his attention lingered on Stone — the old man still held his rapier with the same deadly precision he had always shown — and on the young volunteer who had hurled the fireball moments earlier.
When he turned to look at the young man, something was already wrong.
The volunteer stood perfectly still. Blood began to pour from every orifice — eyes, nose, mouth, ears — streaming down his face in thick, steady rivulets. His body swayed once. His knees buckled. He collapsed forward and hit the stone floor face-first with a wet, final thud.
The other controlled cultists paid their fallen comrade no mind whatsoever.
Alistair's voice was cold and clinical.
"Casting a fireball of that force without a chant or any prior experience… it must have destroyed his mana pathways and fried his brain from the inside."
His examination of the situation was cut short.
The hooded figures lunged at him in eerie silence.
Alistair reacted instantly, hands weaving a rapid spell.
"Repulsion Shell!"
A nearly invisible film of high gravitational force snapped into place around him. Every blade and fist that struck it rebounded with violent force, the weapons sliding off the barrier as if the air itself had turned to steel.
Meanwhile, far down the torch-lit corridor leading away from the chamber, two hooded figures carried the corpse of the first volunteer who had died. One supported the body under the armpits while the other held the legs.
The one carrying the legs spoke casually.
"Hey, how many of those guys do you think are gonna survive?"
The other let out a low chuckle.
"I don't know, but what kind of fools sign up for the very first test?"
Both figures started laughing.
The corpse twitched.
The figure holding the upper body frowned.
"Did you feel that?"
"Feel what?"
"Nothing… forget it."
They kept walking.
Suddenly the dead body moved with violent, unnatural force. Its arms shot upward and clamped around the neck of the figure holding the torso. At the same moment its legs broke free and wrapped around the second carrier's throat. Both figures dropped the body and began clawing desperately at the limbs crushing their windpipes. They drew daggers from their robes and stabbed frantically at the restraining arms, but the blades could not even dent the flesh — they only sliced through the dead man's robes.
Slowly, inexorably, both figures were strangled to death.
Boros, now fully in control of the corpse, let the bodies slump to the floor.
*That took longer than expected.*
He quickly searched the two corpses, rifling through their robes until he found a ring of keys. Lifting the hood of one revealed a surprisingly beautiful woman. He paused for a moment, then lifted the second hood and immediately squeezed his face in disgust, covering it again.
*What a shame. God truly favours women.*
He snatched the keys and broke into a run down the corridor.
Back in Alistair's laboratory, Boros's main body remained trapped inside the sealed containment vessel.
*Even after carefully analysing the solvent and absorbing it, I still can't break out of this container. What exactly was this thing built to hold?*
He stayed perfectly still, conserving energy and focusing on his other tasks.
*Well… let's focus on the main problem until my ticket out of here arrives.*
Back in the main chamber, Alistair took two steps back after blocking the latest attack with his repulsion shell. He turned — only to see Stone already behind him, rapier thrusting toward his spine.
Alistair cast Feather Walk and leapt upward, avoiding the thrust. He landed lightly and kept moving, refusing to stay still even for a second.
One of the transformed test subjects launched two hands at him from a distance. Alistair dodged, but the hand changed direction mid-air and clamped onto his waist and one arm. Two more test subjects rushed forward — one now a hulking mass of muscle, the other with hands reshaped into spear-like tips.
Seeing death closing in, Alistair cast Vector Flip, twisting both their spatial perception, then followed with Anchor Field. Gravity in the immediate area surrounding him multiplied violently.
He pointed his hand at the figure restraining him and condensed three small spheres of dense gravitational mass before casting.
"Singularity Bolt!"
Two spheres struck the test subject's shoulders, ripping the arms clean off as the sudden weight dragged them to the ground. The third hit the torso. The man's legs shattered instantly under the impossible force, his body slamming downward, clothes shredding as flesh tore.
Alistair scanned the room. All the remaining attackers were still charging.
"My mana is rapidly depleting," he muttered. "I have to end this now."
He cancelled the Anchor Field, then cast Repulsion Shell and Feather Walk once more. His voice rose into a chant, cold and precise:
"Center of all,
Draw the world to thy heart.
Let the many become none.
Collapsing void."
A few metres away the air itself became unstable. Space warped and folded inward, creating a violent pulling force that dragged everything in its range toward a single crushing point. Dead bodies, torturer chairs, and loose stones were ripped from the floor and hurled into the vortex.
Anything possessing zero mana was almost instantly crushed.
The attackers trying to shatter Alistair's repulsion shell suddenly felt the abnormal pull. It was too late. They were dragged screaming toward the center. One hooded figure drove a dagger into the floor; Stone did the same. The force only grew stronger. Their weapons tore free and flew faster, piercing the bodies already trapped at the core. The vortex slowly crushed them into mangled, unrecognizable shapes.
Alistair, having already leapt backward outside the spell's range with Feather Walk, landed on his knees. He pulled a small enchanted chain from his robe and saw the central gem had shattered.
"My last chant shortener… gone."
He raised his head to a surprise as the three remaining test subjects suddenly swelled in size, pushing against the pull, sacrificing themselves and buying the others a few more seconds of life.
Then a spear-shaped limb of hardened flesh erupted from behind him and pierced straight through his chest.
Alistair grabbed the protruding limb with both arms feeling it before letting go. He stared down at his blood-covered hands, the warm wetness soaking through his fingers, before slowly turning his head.
The creature he had summoned stood there, hollow eyes fixed on him.