The lab's belly groaned as Kael slumped against a corroded pipe, his breath shallow and wet. The black veins branching across his skin pulsed with every heartbeat, the corruption now gnawing at his collarbone. His left hand was a ruin—fingers swollen and necrotic, the nails peeled back to raw, oozing beds. Gutter circled him, her crystalline hackles raised, her muzzle flecked with foam from growling at shadows.
Mira crouched nearby, her shard-eye dissecting the lab's stolen data. The holoreel projected a fractured map of the lab, its arteries labeled with cold, clinical precision:SECTOR 7-D: RESIDENTIAL QUARTERS .
"Dorms," she said, voice stripped of interest and care. "families lived there. Slept there. Broke there. The Inquisition's records don't lie."
Kael coughed, black spittle staining his sleeve. "And if we die getting inside?"
Mira didn't look up. "Then we die a pitifull death."
The tunnel to Sector 7-D was a scar in the refinery's flesh—narrow, jagged, and stinking of decay. Gutter led, her claws click-click-clicking against grates crusted with dried coolant and flecks of bone. The walls bore the Inquisition's mark: a phoenix wrapped in chains, stamped at intervals like a brand.
They passed empty supply crates labeled CHRYSALIS-3, their interiors stained with a viscous black residue. Kael's boot kicked a discarded respirator, its filter clogged with crystalline growths.
"They made them breathe it in," Mira said, nudging the mask with her boot. "Slow exposure. Better data that way."
Gutter froze, her growl reverberating off the walls. Ahead, the tunnel split—one path collapsed, the other sealed by a blast door etched with worker IDs: Tomas V., Lena R., Jeyne M.
Mira pried open the control panel, her gloves slick with grease. "Deadlock. Needs a biometric key."
Kael leaned against the door, his rotting palm slamming into the scanner. The corruption hissed, eating through the circuitry. The door shuddered open.
"Or that," Mira said flatly.
The air inside was tomb-cold, preserved by dead climate systems. Rows of bunks lined the walls, their frames bolted to the floor. No personal effects—no photos, toys, or letters. Only stark, clinical evidence:
Uniforms were Stiff with dried sweat, numbered tags sewn into collars like Subject 7-D-12, Subject 7-D-15
Medical Charts that were clipped to bedframes, detailing daily injections of Chrysalis-X. Side effects logged in neat, indifferent script: "Seizures leading to death. Hemorrhaging. Terminal Shard fusion."
Shackles, Rusted cuffs chained to bedposts, edges stained with skin and crystal.
Mira scanned a chart, her shard-eye flickering. "Phase 3 was having them go and challenge trials. Workers dosed during shifts. Monitored here for 'adverse reactions.'"
Kael collapsed onto a bunk, the mattress disintegrating beneath him. His corrupted hand brushed a chain, the metal sizzling faintly. "Why keep them alive after?"
"Control," Mira said. "Easier to harvest Shards from compliant subjects."
Gutter pawed at a vent cover. Behind it, a hidden compartment—sealed with the Inquisition's phoenix sigil.
The compartment held a terminal, its screen cracked but functional. Mira bypassed the encryption, her fingers flying. Files spilled across the holoreel:
CHRYSALIS PROTOCOL - AUDIT 227
"Sector 7-D yield: 14 viable Shards. Efficiency remains suboptimal. Recommend increasing dosage intervals. Note: Dispose of nonviable subjects via incinerator chute B-12."
Kael and Mira found an archive of past footage where grainy footage played: workers strapped to beds, Shards erupting from their chests. Inquisition medics in ivory armor carved the crystals free, tossing charred corpses onto conveyor belts.
Kael's stomach heaved. He staggered to a corner, vomiting black bile.
Gutter nosed a drawer beneath the terminal. Inside: vials of Chrysalis-X, each labeled with worker IDs.
7-D-12
7-D-15
7-D-09
Mira held one to the light. "They turned these people into factories. Shard production. Nothing more."
The inquisition worked like this, they wanted to be the only one's with power and so they hunted shardbearers.
Mira knew that the inquisition was in possession of shards in the Authority branch, these shards, after the initial stages, would implement laws in their powers, some shards created a domain in which the shardbearer could use his will to create "laws" that restricted their enemies, of course to have large scale shards they needed a supply, and what better supply than factories?
Mira though to herself 'it is a shame that they didn't leave behind the method to create law shards, but it was predictable, why leave one's key to power in an open spot like this?'
But mira didn't need the inquisition secret, after all she had a whole new branch progenitor as her ally.