“Faaah… man, that was a good nap.”
“Ah! Lord Vitor!”
The man they called Vitor the Resonant, one of the Divine Apostles of the Cult of the Wicked One, yawned and scratched his head as he rose to his feet. Around him, the lesser Acolytes stationed at the Wailing Land snapped to attention, their spines stiffening as though his casual awakening demanded reverence.
Vitor, however, paid them little mind. Stretching his shoulders, he strolled over to one of the nearest Acolytes and spoke in his usual lazy drawl.
“So? How’re things looking?”
“Huh? H-how are things?” the Acolyte stammered, thrown off by the question.
“Yeah, you know. When I came here, Yutis told me all this crap about ‘monster amplification,’ and ‘a sealed Demon King,’ and whatever. But that’s pretty much all I know.”
Within the Cult of the Wicked One, the hierarchy was absolute. At the pinnacle stood the Wicked One himself. Beneath that godlike being were the Divine Apostles: entities granted power beyond mortal comprehension. Below them were the Acolytes, who in turn were ranked internally by strength and usefulness.
The researchers assigned to the Wailing Land were hardly warriors. Their combat skills were negligible, but their scholarly value—especially in magical biology and forbidden technology—earned them a rare degree of autonomy. Still, they were considered part of the organization’s lower tiers.
To have a Divine Apostle standing in their lab was akin to a mortal audience with a god. And yet, this “god” seemed to have no idea what was happening here. That alone was enough to leave them speechless.
Vitor raised an eyebrow at their silence. “Hey, I’m asking you a question. You’re not planning to keep secrets from me, are you?”
“N-No, of course not!”
“Then start talking,” he said, waving a hand toward the cavernous room around them. “You’ve got all kinds of interesting toys lying around here.”
His golden eyes swept the laboratory with open amusement. Towering glass capsules lined the chamber wall to wall, filled with luminous liquid that shimmered like mercury. Suspended within each tank was a sleeping creature, mutated forms Vitor had never seen before, even in his long, blood-soaked existence.
The place didn’t look like it belonged to this world at all. The sterile glow, the alien hum of unseen machinery; it was more reminiscent odf a realm beyond the stars.
“Damn,” Vitor muttered, whistling low. “All this is… Yutis’ handiwork, huh?”
“Y-Yes, Lord Vitor! I’m surprised you could tell.”
He smirked. “C’mon. You think I wouldn’t notice? Half this stuff doesn’t exist on this planet. Only Yutis could’ve hauled it here. Not like any of us could just walk off this rock. Even with all our power, immortality doesn’t mean much when there’s no way to leave. Only Yutis, and maybe that freak Genpel, can manage that. And even then, Genpel can’t do it without Yutis’ help.”
He said it casually, but the room grew cold at his words. To talk about traveling beyond the world as easily as crossing a street—to suggest that their cult had already gone beyond planetary limits—was to remind everyone just how far above them these “Apostles” truly were.
“I see… makes sense,” Vitor muttered, his voice a low rumble of vague interest. Then, jerking his chin toward the nearest tank, he added, “So what’s the deal with this thing?”
The Acolyte he addressed flinched but hurried to answer. “Y-Yes, Lord Vitor. The creature you see in this chamber is a new species of monster, born from extracting and splicing the genetic material of this world’s native beasts. We combined those with the highest compatibility to create… something superior.”
Vitor cocked an eyebrow. “So you can’t just mix whatever you want together and hope for the best?”
“Ah, no, my lord. Even among monsters, genetic compatibility must be respected. If we ignore those natural limits, the result collapses; the body simply can’t sustain itself.”
“Then why not have Destora deal with the ones that don’t make the cut?” Vitor said with a lazy grin. “He could just wipe out the failures until only the strongest survived. Problem solved, right?”
The Acolyte’s expression twisted painfully. “W-Well, actually, one of us did try to ask him that once…”
“Oh?”
“He was killed immediately.”
“Ah. Yeah, that tracks.” Vitor nodded, as though that were the most natural thing in the world. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way that maniac would bother lending a hand with something like this.”
“N-No, of course not. Still, even without his help, the creatures we’ve produced here are immensely powerful. The plan is to use them as instruments to harvest negative emotion, the energy our Lord feeds upon.”
“Right, right. Monsters that serve as emotional batteries. Efficient.” His tone was a mix of amusement and approval. “So how close are you to making that work?”
“Almost there, Lord Vitor. Just a few more calibrations.”
“Good. Then that takes care of the monster part.” Vitor turned, golden eyes gleaming faintly in the sterile light. “Now about the Demon King that’s supposed to be sealed here… What’s the story there?”
“It would be faster to show you, my lord.”
At the Acolyte’s prompting, Vitor followed him toward a wide mechanical screen, another piece of technology far beyond this world’s limits, undoubtedly smuggled in by Yutis. The Acolyte adjusted several switches, and the black surface flickered to life, displaying moving images.
There, captured in grainy, distorted clarity, was the ongoing research surrounding the sealed Demon King: ritual diagrams, pulsating restraints, and glimpses of overwhelming power trapped within containment rings.
As the recording played, Vitor’s easy smirk vanished. His golden eyes widened, reflecting the shifting light of the screen.
“What in the hell…” he breathed. “That thing—”
“This,” the Acolyte said, gesturing toward the flickering projection, “is the culmination of our research. Unfortunately, the Demon King’s ego remains intact, so its abilities haven’t reached full awakening yet…”
“Oh, come on,” Vitor muttered, a sharp grin curving his lips. “You’re telling me this isn’t complete? Then what happens when it is?”
The Acolyte straightened, his expression filling with unearned pride. “Once fully awakened,” he said, pausing for effect, “it will be invincible.”
“Ha!”
The single, derisive laugh carried enough weight to make the room tremble. Vitor’s amusement bled into something darker, and when his eyes lifted to meet the Acolyte’s, their golden gleam turned predatory.
“Invincible, huh?” he murmured. “Guess we’ll have to test that, won’t we?”
No one answered. The air itself seemed to tighten under his gaze. A thick, suffocating wave of killing intent rolled off him, pinning every Acolyte in the chamber where they stood. Not one of them dared to breathe.
Then, just as suddenly, the pressure vanished. Vitor exhaled, stretching his neck with an easy smile as if nothing had happened.
“Relax. I’m just messing with you. I don’t think it could beat me, but killing the damn thing might be annoying. Makes me wonder, though…” His grin widened, sharp and boyish at once. “If Destora fought it, how do you think that would go?”
He appeared genuinely amused by the thought. His eyes still sparkled with excitement as he pointed at the image of the Demon King.
“Anyway, hurry it up. Get this thing finished, and figure out a way to deal with whatever’s left of that ego. I want to see the final product for myself.”
“Y-Yes, my lord!”
“And tell me something,” he added, glancing at the projection again. “You’ve gone and created this monster, but is it actually going to listen to orders? Because if it turns on us, that’ll be a pain in the ass.”
“We’ve already accounted for that, my lord. In the early stages, we embedded a control mechanism directly into its body.”
Vitor snorted. “Hah. If that thing really works, then calling it ‘invincible’ was a stretch, don’t you think?”
The Acolyte froze, words failing him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Vitor said, his tone light but his gaze unblinking. “Still, I’m curious. Make sure you test that control thoroughly. I want proof it works.”
“Y-Yes, Lord Vitor!”
“Good. Then I’m off.”
The Acolyte blinked. “Off? You’re leaving already?”
When Vitor suddenly turned and started walking toward the exit, every Acolyte in the chamber froze in confusion.
A few stunned seconds passed before one of them finally snapped out of it and called after him, panic edging his voice.
“L-Lord Vitor! Where are you going?! If you wish to rest, your quarters here are still prepared—”
“Idiot,” Vitor interrupted with a grin, not even glancing back. “If I’m heading out, what other reason could there be?”
“Huh? What do you—oh!”
Before the Acolyte could finish processing his realization, the shrill wail of sirens ripped through the facility.
“What was that?”
“R-Report from the outer perimeter! We’ve detected humans!”
“Humans?! Impossible! No one but us could ever reach this place!”
“It must be a mistake—”
“It’s no mistake!” the panicked Acolyte blurted, his face pale. “And, um… there’s something else.”
“Well? Spit it out.”
“There… there are only four of them!”
“What?!”
“Four people made it all the way here?!”
“That’s absurd!” another snapped, disbelief spreading through the room. “Forget that. Are the facility’s camouflage systems active?”
“I’ll check immediately!”
“No, hold on,” a senior Acolyte interjected, already moving toward a console. “This might be a rare opportunity. Send out one of the prototypes. Let’s see how our creation handles live targets.”
“At once!”
The laboratory erupted into motion as alarms blared, terminals flashed, and researchers shouted orders across the floor. Yet Vitor, the center of their hierarchy, barely seemed to notice. His golden eyes were already fixed somewhere beyond the reinforced walls, as though he could see straight through them.
“Four, huh?” he murmured, a delighted smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t think there were still people out there capable of reaching this place.”
He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous.
“Well then…” His grin widened. “Let’s see if they can entertain me.”
And with that, his form shimmered and vanished without a trace.