The chaos had been controlled. There had been
Acceptable losses sure, but nothing that was a major setback. The Hydra for all its durability and endurance turned out to be much more valuable in death then it had ever been contained. A
Core was already in the process of being completed from its recovered materials. It’s death at the hands of the Rogue and wayward Templar ultimately trivial in the grand scheme of things.
Life was rather cheep in the world of monsters and mutants. Worth measured far more strictly then in breaths taken and hearts beating. Just becomes something lived did not mean it had value on its own. The Cult and its Children understood this. Or at least, that’s what their
“God” would hope.
Kiran Kingsley did not put much stock in people being so smart however. Even His own children had proved disappointments on more then one occasion. Still, everyone had proven their usefulness. Their current prize proof of their attempts to constantly please him.
Classical music echoed out from their current lab space. A rather somber rendition of “In the Hall of the Mountain King.” They always worked better with music.
A recording device buzzed to life.
”Esper experiment number seventy eight dash 1. Continued. Subject, the remains of one Rogue by the name of . . . Green Gunner.” their gloved hand ran across the face of a glass container that held the “mostly” dead head of said rogue currently suspended in some form of viscous fluid. Dozens of wires and tubing funneled into the head’s neck stump, more wiring and prongs had been embedded into the exposed grey matter.
Kiran typed away at their terminal, causing stimuli and chemical reactions to the brain which were quickly recorded in rapid succession.
”Subject shows no noticeable signs of mutation or other genetic anomalies. Stolen local records and documentation further confirm such information. Now listed in file subsection C.” Irritating. Years of tampering and trying to find some evidence of the psychic phenomenon to be exploited continued to come up short. Too many muscles pulled Kiran’s face into a scowl as some form of energy sparked off the head in its tank. While the equipment confirmed what stimuli had caused the reaction, it’s origin remained . . , inconclusive. Another dead end.
” correct Stimulation achieved. Root of psyching power remains inconclusive. Terminating current experiment, experiment seventy eight dash one . . . “ Kiran pulled their hands away from the console as a metal arm plucked the head’s jar from its mount with a hiss and rather satisfying pop. Said arm then placed the jar among many other heads, all labeled in a similar manner.
”-Inconclusive.” The recorder was shut off.
The feeling of time being wasted was always irritating. Part of him still wondered why he had ever bothered to waste the time and resources looking into Espers when he had Deviant powers literally in the palm of his hand. A distain for complacency perhaps. Or maybe a more predictable project to go back to to help keep his mania and unfocused work process somewhat predictable. He had contemplated this exact pattern of thinking more then once before. What was the definition of insanity again?
He allowed himself a bemused chuckle while exiting the lab. Creatures and faceless attendants stopped to pay silent reverence as he made his way down the pristine halls. Nobody daring to interrupt his stride.
Minutes later, They arrived at their destination.
level 8 - Alchemist Nightmare
Worker thralls went about their work almost mindlessly as Kiran inspected a few batches of their chemical concoctions. One figure however did approach. A hulking humanoid with limbs like tree trunks. Their pale flesh littered with scars and chemical burns. Their bald head was dominated by a mouthed gas mask of sorts, tubing ran from various apparatuses into said mask, pumping the massive man with a constant stream of chemicals and narcotics.
”Father! It is an honor and pleasure to see you again so soon. Production has returned to nominal levels and we expect this weeks shipments to go out within the next two hours.” the sound of pumping and gurgling, accompanied every breath of the looming humanoid.
Kiran grinned, showing rows of sharp teeth.
”Good news, finally! You never disappoint when it comes to production, do you Ord?” While he beamed at the good work of their son, something in the Chem-fiend’s demeanor seemed a touch nervous. Kiran squinted.
”Theres bad news I take it? Their tone made it more a demand for an answer then a simple question.
Ord, despite nearly being twice the size of their father, cowered at the sudden scrutiny.
“T-There was an incident in the undercity. A robbery.” another sharp intake of breath as their father motioned for them to go on.
“We have it on good word that it was one of the trains going through Northbridge.” a slow realization begane to grow across Kiran’s face.
“A cell did a sweep of the scene . . . The GIFT is gone.”Kiran Kingsley’s left eye twitched. Once. Twice. Three times. Their face began to twist, veins and muscles contorted in wretched ways. Everyone else ran, and Kiran screamed.
-
-
-
Flashes of an incident in the past came screaming into the forefront of Kiran Kingsley’s mind. An upstart. A would be
Usurper. A damned thief. That one incident caused the knowledge of GIFT to become public, setting back years of hard work in nearly and Instant. And the damned fool still got himself killed in the end. After ALL the work, ALL the painstaking planing and paranoia, Kiran had his most prized of commodities stollen in transit.
AGAIN.What came next could be best described as a wave of emotion. As pure and incandescent as sunlight. Every monster, every mutant, every minuscule vermin, all coward in absolute terror. What rang out from the super complex could be felt by even the more sensitive of individuals, while others had a sudden case of goosebumps or spine chills.
In one, single moment, Kiran only knew one thing.
Ŗ̊͆͏̙͔̠̞̪̰aͦ̔ͣ̅̓͐ͦ̀͏̪̲̠͎̱̪̣gͯ͋ͩ͆̍̚҉̣̥̼̰̕e͎̹͍̭͇͕͇͇̹̊ͣͭ̊̊ͭ̈́̿
Blaze Gamma
