Val pov(first person point of view)
I woke up slowly.
The gray ceiling came into focus first.
Then the doors.
All five of them, still lined up against the wall like nothing had happened.
I exhaled quietly and pushed myself up, my body stiff but functional.
“…Alright.”
The headache was still there, but dulled now. Manageable.
I rolled my shoulders slightly and glanced down at myself.
My hoodie was still stained.
Dark patches of dried blood spread across the fabric-my blood.(Patches-small areas or spots. Context: Small spots of dried blood on his hoodie.)
“…Yeah.”
There wasn’t much I could do about that right now.
I stood up fully and stretched, working the stiffness out of my arms and legs.(Stiffness-when your body feels tight, hard to move, or sore. Context: His arms and legs felt tight and hard to move after resting.)
The rest had helped.
Not perfect, but enough.
My eyes drifted back to the doors.
One.
Two.
Three.
I had already gone through those.
Which left-
My gaze settled on the fourth door.
“…Guess you’re next.”
I walked over, my footsteps echoing softly in the empty corridor.
As I got closer, I slowed slightly.
My hand lifted.
Hovered just inches away from the surface.
I paused there for a second.
“…What’s it going to be this time?”
My voice was quiet.
Half curious. Half cautious.
The last few doors hadn’t exactly been welcoming.
And the creatures… something about them was off.
“…I really hope they don’t find me that fast again.”
Because that still didn’t make sense.
How they knew.
How they gathered.
How they tracked me like that.
The manor had confirmed something-but not enough.
Not nearly enough.
“…I’ll figure it out eventually.”
I let out a small breath.
Then gave a faint, tired smile.
“I’d say third time’s the charm…”
I tapped the door lightly with my fingers.
“…but that already passed.”
A brief pause.
Then a quiet mutter-
“Hopefully this one’s my break. Like the second door.”
I grabbed the handle.
And pushed the fourth door open.
The door creaked open.
I stepped through-
And immediately paused.
“…Oh.”
This one was… different.
No massive estate.
No sprawling corridors.
No ruined city stretching into the distance.
Just a small room.
Cracked walls.
Broken windows letting in faint, dull light.
A single bathroom off to the side.
And what barely counted as a kitchen-if you could even call it that.
It felt… cramped.
Worn down.
Lived in.
My eyes moved slowly across the space.
“…This is familiar.”
Not from memory, but from something else.
Garrick Hale’s journal.
The descriptions.
The tone.
The way he talked about where he stayed.
“…Yeah.”
This matched.
Or at least… something close to it.
I stepped further inside, scanning the room more carefully.
A desk sat near the wall.
Old.
Scratched.
And on top of it-
A journal.
I noticed it immediately.
But then-
Something else caught my eye.
Right beside the desk.
I froze.
“…No way.”
I walked closer.
Slowly.
Like if I moved too fast, it might disappear.
But it didn’t.
It was real.
A projector.
An actual projector.
I stared at it for a full second.
Then-
“-Finally!”
I whisper-shouted, clenching both fists instantly.
“Yes-!”
I pumped one fist downward.(Pumping fist-quickly moving your fist down in excitement.)
Then the other.
“Yes, yes-!”
A quick clap slipped out.
“Yes!”
I grabbed my head with both hands, almost in disbelief.
“Finally-!”
A laugh escaped me.
“It’s not even the fifth door-!”
I turned in a small circle, half in shock, half in relief.
“I can actually watch them now-!”
The reels.
All three of them.
Right here.
Right now.
I exhaled sharply, trying to steady myself, but the excitement still buzzed(strong energy or excitement inside your body.) under my skin, refusing to settle.
“…Okay.”
Focus.
One thing at a time.
My eyes shifted across the room again.
That’s when I noticed the bed.
Simple.
Worn.
A blanket completely covering it.
Too completely.
Like something was underneath.
“…Huh.”
I walked over slowly.
“…Another reel maybe?”
That would make sense.
Or something else important.
I reached out toward the blanket.
And pulled it back.
The blanket slid aside.
And I froze.
My body reacted before my mind did.
I staggered back a step-
Cold.
A sharp chill crawled up my spine.
Goosebumps prickled along my arms, even through the hoodie.(Goosebumps-small bumps on your skin when you're scared or cold. Prickled-small sharp feeling on your skin.)
“…-”
I couldn’t speak.
I just stared.
On the bed-
Was a body.
No.
A corpse.
Shriveled.
Decayed.
The skin clung tightly to the bones, stretched thin and dry like something drained of all life long ago (Meaning: Thin-very little flesh Dry-no moisture, dried out. Context: The body looked very old and dried out, like all life was gone.). It hadn’t rotted in the usual way-it had withered. Darkened in places, cracked along the surface, as if time had dried it out instead of breaking it down.(The body did not rot normally. Instead, it dried up slowly over time. Context: Usually bodies rot and fall apart. This one just dried like a mummy.)
The face-
Sunken.
The lips had pulled back slightly, exposing teeth in a faint, unnatural grimace(Grimace-a face showing pain, discomfort, or something unnatural.The lips pulled back, showing teeth, making the face look creepy and uncomfortable.). The eyes were gone-just hollow sockets(Hollow sockets-empty holes where eyes used to be. Context: The eyes were gone. Only empty eye holes remained.) staring upward, empty and dark, like something that had long since stopped seeing anything at all.
Strands of brittle purple hair clung unevenly to the scalp.(Brittle-dry and easy to break. Context: The hair was dry, weak, and breaking apart. Scalp-the skin on top of the head. Small pieces of dry purple hair were stuck in random places on the head.)
Patchy.(Patchy-missing in some places. Context: Hair was missing in many areas.)
Falling apart.
And above that-
Horns.
Broken.
Fragments of them still attached, jagged and incomplete.(Jagged-sharp, broken edges. Context: The horns were broken, sharp, and missing pieces.)
It didn’t look peaceful.
It didn’t look natural.
It looked…
“…I don’t even know how to describe this.”
Wrong.
My gaze shifted lower.
And that’s when I noticed it.
The tail.
Thin.
Ending in a distinct heart-shaped tip.
“…Yeah.” I exhaled quietly.
“Definitely a succubus.”
No doubt about it.
Even like this.
Even reduced to… this.
That detail alone made it obvious.
But something else was strange.
“…There’s no smell.”
That was the part that didn’t make sense.
No rot.
No decay in the air.
Nothing.
Just stillness.
Like the body had been frozen in time.
Or forgotten by it.
I stood there, staring.
Unable to look away.
Because this-
This was different.
Back in the snowy settlement…
With Cooler…
I’d seen bodies before.
Plenty of them.
In the clinic.
After fights.
After disasters.
After things went wrong.
Bloody.
Broken.
Fresh.
But this-
“…I’ve never seen one like this.”
Not like this.
Not… abandoned.
Not… alone.
Not in a place that looked like someone had been living here.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Quieter.
Heavier.(more serious or sad)
And the corpse just… stayed there.
Staring at nothing.
“…What happened to you?”
My eyes lingered on the corpse for a moment longer.
Then I exhaled slowly and stepped back.
“…Later.”
My voice was quiet.
Controlled.
There were too many questions.
Too many possibilities.
And right now-
I needed answers first.
My gaze shifted toward the desk.
Then to the projector.
“…Right.”
The reels.
I reached back and pulled my backpack off my shoulder, setting it down on the floor.
My hand slipped inside.
One by one-
I pulled them out.
Three film reels.
Cold metal edges catching the dim light.(Edges-outer sides of something Context: The outer sides of the reels were metal and reflecting light.)
I held them in both hands, staring down at them.
“…So.”
These were it.
Whatever someone wanted to show.
Whatever someone thought was important enough to hide.
My fingers tightened slightly around the edges.
Then loosened again.
“…I think I know who you might be.”
My eyes flicked briefly toward the corpse on the bed.
“…But I’ll figure that out after this.”
No point guessing blindly.
Not when I had actual evidence sitting right in front of me.
Journals.
Reels.
Pieces of a story.
I just had to put them together.
I lowered myself into the nearby chair, dragging it slightly so it faced the projector.
The legs scraped softly against the floor.
Then I sat down.
The reels rested in my lap.
“…Alright.”
Which one first?
My thumb brushed against one of them.
The first one.
The one I found in the bunker.
“…Might as well start from the beginning.”
I picked it up and leaned forward, examining the projector.
“…Now how does this thing even work?”
I turned it slightly.
Looked at the sides.
The slots.(Slots-small openings or spaces. Context: The projector had small openings where parts go in.)
The metal arms.(Metal arms-sticking-out metal parts Context: The projector had metal sticks where the reels attach.)
“…Huh.”
I rotated the reel in my hands, trying to figure out how it fit.
“…Do I just… put it here?”
I tried placing it onto one of the spindles.(Spindles-small rods that hold reels. Context: The round rod where the film reel sits.)
It slipped off.
“…Nope.”
I frowned slightly.
Tried again.
“…This is old.”
Very old.
Definitely not something I’d ever used before.
“…Alright, think…”
I leaned closer.
Studied the mechanism.
Then carefully slid the reel onto the top arm.
This time-
It clicked into place.
“…Oh.”
My eyebrows lifted slightly.
“…That worked.”
A small pause.
Then-
“…Heh.”
I adjusted the film strip carefully, threading it through the guides with slow, cautious movements.(Film strip-long ribbon with pictures Context: The long strip of film that plays images.)
“…Okay, this is actually kind of interesting.”
Despite everything-
Despite the corpse behind me-
Despite the situation-
There was something oddly… engaging about it.
Figuring it out.
Piece by piece.
“…Didn’t expect this to be the thing I enjoy today.”
I muttered under my breath.
Then paused.
My hands stopped.
My eyes shifted slightly.
Toward the bed.
Toward the body.
“…Sorry.”
The word slipped out quietly.
“…I know this isn’t exactly the right time for that. Sorry if I am being disrespectful. I promise its unintentional.”
I scratched the back of my head lightly.
“…Just… a little nervous.”
The silence didn’t change.
Of course it didn’t.
Still-
It felt like I should say it.
I turned back to the projector.
Finished adjusting the film.
“…Alright.”
My hand hovered near the switch.
Then stopped.
A thought crossed my mind.
“…Wait.”
I frowned slightly.
“…Do these things even have sound?”
I looked at the reel.
Then the projector.
“…Or is it just pictures?”
I tilted my head slightly.
“…Do I need to read something? Or-”
A pause.
“…Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
I reached forward.
And pressed the switch.
Reel Film 1
The projector clicked.
A low mechanical hum filled the room as the reel began to spin.
For a moment-
Nothing.
Just a blank wall.
Then-
Light flickered to life.
The image jittered(Jittered-shaking slightly)slightly as it stabilized, the film struggling for a second before catching properly.
“…Oh.”
Black and white.
Grainy.(Grainy-rough, dotted picture Context: The film looked old and unclear.)
Faint lines running through the image.
Dust specks flickering across the frame.
Old.
Very old.
“…Figures.”
I leaned back slightly in the chair, watching.
Then-
The image shifted.
And immediately-
A face filled the screen.
Close.
Too close.
I blinked.
“…That’s-”
A man.
Wearing a lab coat.
Glasses resting neatly on his face.
Human… I think.
Or at least close enough that I couldn’t immediately tell otherwise.
His expression was calm.
Composed.
Professional.
The kind of face that looked like it belonged to someone important.
Someone used to being listened to.
The frame adjusted slightly, pulling back just enough to show more of him.
A desk.
A chair.
Some kind of office or recording room.
Then-
Sound.
A faint crackle at first.
Static.
Then a voice.
Clear enough.
“…Audio too.” I murmured quietly.
The voice wasn’t his.
It came from somewhere off-screen.
A second person.
“Dr. A. Virell,” the unseen man said, his tone formal(serious and polite), measured. “Thank you for agreeing to participate in this recording.”
The seemingly young man on screen-Dr. Virell-gave a small nod.
“Of course.”
His voice was calm.
Controlled.
There was something precise about the way he spoke.
Like every word had already been considered before he said it.
The unseen interviewer continued.
“It’s an honor to have the opportunity to document your thoughts and achievements. Your work has been… widely recognized.”
A faint pause.
The camera flickered slightly, a brief distortion(image glitch.problem. Context: The video briefly glitched.) passing through the image.
“…Though, as you are aware.” the voice went on. “this recording may never be released to the public.”
Another pause.
“Due to the nature of your research… and the potential it has to cause certain… unpleasantries within Daemina.”
Silence hung for a second.
The faint hum of the projector filled the gap.
Dr. Virell didn’t react much.
No surprise.
No discomfort.
Just a slight adjustment of his glasses.
“I’m aware.” he said simply.
His gaze remained steady, focused slightly past the camera rather than directly into it.
Then, after a brief pause, he added-
“Let’s proceed.”
The film crackled softly as it continued.
The image steadied on Dr. A. Virell’s face, the grainy black-and-white frame flickering faintly with age.
The unseen interviewer spoke again.
“Before we begin with more specific questions, Doctor… I believe it would be appropriate to briefly acknowledge your contributions.”
A short pause.
“You are widely credited as one of the primary reasons Daemina rose to power roughly twenty-eight to forty-two years ago.”
The camera shifted slightly, as if being adjusted.
“During that time, the nation underwent an unprecedented transformation. Military strength increased dramatically… to the point where even Latenna-the dominant, majority human populis(Populis-population (people living there) Context: Mostly humans lived there.) nation at the time-was ultimately destroyed.”
Another pause.
“And much of that… is attributed to your research.”
A faint crackle passed through the audio.
“More specifically… your work on enhancing soldiers.”
A brief pause.
“On whom, we both already know the answer.”
Another beat.
“Children.”
Silence followed.
Dr. Virell didn’t react immediately.
His expression remained calm.
Neutral.
Like he’d heard this countless times before.
The interviewer continued.
“As a result of these achievements, it is said the Demon King personally granted you a… unique reward.”
A slight shift in tone.
“One that explains your current… youthful condition.”
The camera lingered on Virell’s face.
He looked young.
Far too young for someone whose work dated back decades.
Virell adjusted his glasses slightly.
“…A reward.” he repeated quietly.
A faint pause.
Then, almost under his breath-
“More like a punishment.”
The interviewer hesitated.
“…I’m sorry?”
Virell didn’t elaborate.
He simply straightened slightly in his seat.
“Never mind.”
His tone returned to neutral immediately.
“What is your next question?”
The interviewer paused briefly, then continued.
“…Very well.”
A soft shuffle of papers could be heard.
“Moving on-”
“Everyone is familiar with General Vemmora. The succubus.”
A slight emphasis on the name.
“Currently serving as the leading general of Daemina… and second only to the Demon King in authority.”
A small pause.
“Would you agree with that assessment?”
Virell gave a short nod.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No pride.
Just confirmation.
The interviewer continued.
“It is also widely believed that she is one of the results of your earlier research.”
Another pause.
“The first successful round, if I’m not mistaken.”
Virell’s gaze remained steady.
“That is correct.”
Silence followed.
The interviewer spoke again, this time with a slightly lighter tone.
“Then you must feel some level of pride, Doctor.”
A beat.
“After all, creating someone of that caliber-”
“It’s nothing.”
Virell cut him off.
Flat.(no emotion)
Uninterested.
No emotion behind the words.
The interviewer paused.
“…I see.”
A faint tension settled into the air.
Then, after a moment, the interviewer continued.
“…There is another matter I’d like to address.”
A longer pause this time.
“Something… less widely known.”
The audio crackled faintly again.
“It has been rumored that approximately forty-two years ago-”
“-well before the appearance of the Tree of Life in Velmoria nearly ten years ago-”
“-a small branch came into your possession.”
The room went quiet.
Completely quiet.
Virell didn’t move at first.
Then-
A slow exhale.
His eyes lowered slightly.
“…That question.”
A pause.
Then he looked back up.
Not at the camera-
But past it.
Toward the interviewer.
“Did the Demon King authorize that topic?”
His tone was calm.
But sharper now.
More focused.
The interviewer didn’t hesitate this time.
“No. It was Vemmora.”
A simple answer.
Clear.
Certain.
Silence followed.
The projector hummed softly as the film continued to spin.
Virell held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then-
“…I see.”
A faint pause.
Then he spoke again.
“So Vemmora wants me to confess my sins?”
The interviewer shifted slightly off-screen.
“That’s not-”
“Well, no matter.”
Virell cut him off again.
Calm.
Final.
“I am tired of everything anyway.”
He leaned back slightly in his chair.
“…Then lets go ahead.”
The interviewer shifted slightly off-screen.
A faint shuffle of paper.
Then-
“…Very well.”
A short pause.
“Let’s begin with the matter at hand.”
The audio crackled softly.
“You mentioned earlier… the branch.”
A slight adjustment in tone.
“Can you explain how you came into possession of it?”
Virell didn’t answer immediately.
His gaze lowered slightly.
Thinking.
Or remembering.
“…I acquired it after the Demon King’s son passed away.” he said calmly.
The interviewer paused for a brief moment.
“…I see.”
A quiet scribble of pen against paper.
“And how exactly did it come into the prince’s possession in the first place?”
Virell gave a small exhale.
“…From what I was told…”
A faint pause.
“…the branch appeared.”
The interviewer didn’t interrupt.
“It supposedly… fell into the palace garden.”
Another pause.
“The one the child used to play in.”
Virell adjusted his glasses slightly.
“…At least, that is what I heard.”
His tone remained neutral.
Uncertain-not because he doubted it.
But because he simply hadn’t been there.
“I do not know the full details.”
The interviewer hummed quietly in acknowledgment.
“…Understood.”
A short pause.
Then-
“Do you know how the Demon King’s son died?”
Virell didn’t hesitate this time.
“Yes.”
His voice was flat.
Certain.
“It was the branch.”
The interviewer paused.
“…That is not quite what I asked.”
A slight shift in tone.
“Do you know how the branch killed him?”
A beat.
Virell remained still.
Then-
“No.”
Simple.
Direct.
“I was not present.”
The room fell quiet again.
The projector hummed softly in the background.
Virell continued on his own.
“…From what I was told…”
A faint pause.
“The Demon King found him in his room.”
His gaze lowered slightly.
“…Dead.”
Another pause.
“He was holding the branch.”
Silence.
“No signs of injury.”
“No blood.”
The words came out evenly.
Like he was reciting a report.
Not a tragedy.
“…That is all I know.”
The interviewer didn’t speak for a second.
Then-
“I see.”
A quiet exhale.
Another note written down.
Virell adjusted his posture slightly.
“Any more questions?” he asked calmly.
The interviewer gave a small, restrained chuckle.(Restrained-controlled Context: A quiet controlled laugh.)
“…Many.”
A brief pause.
“But due to the limitations of this reel…”
A soft tap-likely the film recorder.
“I will restrict myself to only the primary inquiries(Inquires means questions).”
Another pause.
“The remaining questions will be addressed in a separate recording.”
Silence settled again.
Then-
“…Very well,” Virell said.
Calm.
Unbothered.
“Proceed.”
The interviewer shifted again.
Another faint shuffle of paper.
Then-
“…Actually.”
A slight pause.
“I have something here.”
The sound of a file being moved.
Set down.
“This document dates back roughly forty-one to forty-two years ago.”
A quiet breath.
“It is… extremely classified.”
A faint crackle passed through the audio.
“Much of it has been redacted.”(Parts removed and hidden. Context: Some information was hidden.)
Another pause.
“But I was granted limited access.”
The camera flickered slightly.
Virell didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
The interviewer continued.
“This report details an experiment.”
A beat.
“One that took place shortly before the initiation of the child enhancement programs.”
Silence.
The projector hummed softly.
“It is labeled as a failure.”
Another pause.
“…An experiment conducted using the branch.”
A faint shift in tone.
“And according to the file-”
A brief hesitation.
“-it was conducted by you.”
Virell’s expression didn’t change.
Not even slightly.
The interviewer went on.
“The results were… catastrophic.”
A quiet inhale.
“The report documents the deaths of multiple personnel.(Personnel-workers/staff)”
A page turned.
“Scientists.”
Another page.
“Soldiers.”
A slight pause.
“All within a secured, undisclosed research site.”
A beat.
“The total confirmed casualties listed…”
A faint crackle.
“…are seventy-three.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Unmoving.
The interviewer continued, voice slightly more controlled now.
“It also states that on the final day of the experiment-”
A pause.
“-the Demon King himself was present.”
The camera flickered again.
Still-
No reaction from Virell.
Then-
The interviewer spoke again.
“This file also contains a designation.”
A slight shift.
“A title.”
A beat.
“Do you recall what this project was called?”
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then-
Virell exhaled quietly.
“…Yes.”
His voice remained calm.
Unchanged.
“It was meant to be called…”
A faint pause.
“Resurrection of an Essence.”
The words settled into the room.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
The interviewer didn’t interrupt.
Virell continued.
“And yes.”
A slight adjustment of posture.
“The Demon King was the one who ordered it.”
No hesitation.
No emotion.
Just fact.
The interviewer took a breath.
“…I see.”
A short pause.
Then-
“What was the primary objective of this experiment?”
Virell answered immediately.
“To resurrect the Demon King’s son.”
The interviewer remained silent for a moment.
Then-
“…Why would the Demon King resort to something like this?”
A brief pause.
Then quickly-
“…Apologies.”
A slight shift in tone.
“That is not the proper question.”
A faint shuffle of paper.
“What I mean to ask is-”
A beat.
“Why didn’t the Demon King seek out beings capable of true resurrection?”
The projector hummed steadily in the background.
“Necromancy, of course, is… undesirable.”
A slight pause.
“A fate no parent would willingly choose for their child.”
Another beat.
“But there are entities capable of true restoration.”
A faint emphasis.
“Vampires.”
“Liches.”
“Certain undead-”
A small pause.
“-and even some non-undead beings.”
The interviewer continued.
“Under the right conditions, true resurrection is possible. But it's extremely rare.”
A longer pause.
“…Did the Demon King not attempt that?”
Silence.
Then-
“He did.”
Virell’s voice cut in calmly.
Certain.
The interviewer paused.
“…I see.”
A slight shift.
“And how do you know this?”
Virell adjusted his glasses slightly.
“…Because he told me.”
A faint pause.
“He disappeared for approximately two months.”
The room remained quiet.
“When he returned…”
Virell’s gaze lowered slightly.
“…he stated that the attempt had failed.”
A beat.
“The one who performed the resurrection…”
A faint crackle passed through the audio.
“…died during the process.”
Silence.
The interviewer didn’t interrupt.
“…I do not know why.” Virell continued.
“Nor do I know the exact nature of that being.”
A small pause.
“Only that they were… not someone the Demon King was supposed to meet.”
The words hung there for a moment.
Then-
Virell exhaled quietly.
“…After that.”
A slight shift in posture.
“He told me something else.”
A pause.
Something subtle changed in his tone.(Subtle-small but noticeable. Context: His tone changed slightly.)
Not emotion.
But weight.(seriousness)
“…He said that, according to that being…”
A beat.
“The essence of his son…”(Essence-soul/life energy. Context: The son's soul was inside the branch.)
Another pause.
“…was inside the branch.”
Virell remained still for a moment.
Then-
“…I was tasked with creating a method to extract it.”(Extract-remove Context: They tried to remove the soul from the branch.)
A faint pause.
“The essence.”
Another beat.
“From the branch.”
The interviewer didn’t interrupt.
“Multiple scientists were assigned to the project.”
A quiet exhale.
“It was… extensive.”(Extensive-very large. Context: The project was big and complex.)
The projector hummed softly.
Virell continued.
“The branch itself displayed… unusual properties.”
A slight adjustment of his glasses.
“We began with smaller tests.”
A pause.
“Controlled.”
His gaze lowered slightly, recalling.
“Organic matter.”
“Food.”
“Animals.”
A faint crackle passed through the audio.
“…An apple, for example.”
A brief pause.
“It did not simply rot.”
His tone remained clinical.(Emotionless and scientific, Context: He spoke like a doctor explaining facts.)
“It changed.”
Another pause.
“The texture shifted.”
“The interior became… unstable.”(The inside of the apple changed.)
A beat.
“As if something within it was being rewritten.”
The interviewer stayed silent.
Virell continued.
“With animals…”
A faint pause.
“…the results were more drastic.”
Another beat.
“Their bodies strengthened.”
“Altered.”
A slight narrowing of his eyes.
“Not in a natural way.”
Silence.
“They became… something else.”
A pause.
“More aggressive. More resilient. More stronger. More… wrong.”
The word lingered.
Then-
Virell exhaled quietly.
“…Eventually.”
A longer pause.
“The day came.”
The room felt heavier.
“We believed it was possible.”
A beat.
“To apply the process to the Demon King’s son.”
Silence.
“His body had been preserved.”
A slight shift.
“Perfectly.”
Another pause.
“No decay.”
“No damage.”
“It looked as though he had simply… fallen asleep.”
The projector crackled faintly.
Then-
“…We began the procedure.”
A pause.
“The branch was integrated into the system.”(Integrated-added into Context: They put the branch into the machine.)
“Energy output increased.”(Energy output-power produced Context: The machine produced more power.)
Another beat.
“Everything functioned as expected.”
A faint exhale.
“…At first.”
Silence.
Then-
Virell’s voice lowered slightly.
“…The body responded.”
A pause.
“It moved.”
Another.
“It… woke up.”
The interviewer didn’t breathe.
“…But something was wrong.”
The words came slower now.
Measured.
Deliberate.
“The decay began immediately.”
A faint crackle.
“Rapid.”
“Unnatural.”
“The skin… withered.”(dried and shrunk)
“Darkened.”
“Collapsed inward as if time itself had been forced back into it all at once.”
A pause.
“The smell should have been overwhelming.”
Another beat.
“But there was none.”
Silence.
“His eyes…”
A faint hesitation.
“…changed.”
Another pause.
“The sclera turned black.”(Sclera-white part of the eye Context: The white part turned black.)
“The pupils… white.”(Pupils-center of eye Context: The black center turned white.)
The projector hummed louder in the silence.
“That was not the Demon King’s son.”
Flat.
Certain.
“No essence returned.”
A beat.
“Only something else.”
Silence.
“…Something worse.”
The interviewer shifted slightly.
But said nothing.
Virell continued.
“It attacked immediately.”
A pause.
“Violent.”
“Uncontrolled.”
“Efficient.”
Another beat.
“It moved through the facility…”
A faint crackle.
“…and killed.”
Silence.
“Scientists.”
“Soldiers.”
“No hesitation.”
“No recognition.”
The number didn’t need to be repeated.
“…The Demon King engaged it personally.”
A slight pause.
“He hesitated.”
Another.
“It still had his son’s form.”
Silence.
“But the entity…”
A faint shift.
“…did not hesitate.”
The projector flickered.
“…It created something.”
A pause.
“A domain.”
Another beat.
“A contained space.”
“Sealed.”
The room felt tighter.
“They were both trapped inside.”
Silence.
“No one could interfere.”
A faint exhale.
“…When the domain finally collapsed…”
A pause.
“The Demon King was the only one left standing.”
Another beat.
“…But he had changed.”
Virell’s gaze lowered slightly.
“I believe…”
A faint hesitation.
“…the entity said something to him.”
Silence.
“I do not know what.”
A pause.
“But after that…”
Another beat.
“…he was not the same.”
The projector crackled softly.
“And the body…”
A final pause.
“…was gone.”
Another.
“Completely. No remains. No ash.”
“…Nothing.”
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Unmoving.
Then-
The interviewer finally spoke again.
Quiet.
Measured.
“…I see.”
A faint shuffle of paper.
“…I have more questions.”
The interviewer then spoke again.
“Is it correct to assume… that the Demon King himself ordered the creation of enhanced child soldiers?”
A brief pause.
“And is it also correct that the branch was used in those experiments… given the effects you previously described on animals and other experiments?”
Virell gave a slow nod.
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
“The branch demonstrated its potential clearly… to the Demon King, to the remaining scientists, and to myself.”
A faint pause.
“It sparked the idea.”
The interviewer remained silent, letting him continue.
Virell adjusted his glasses slightly.
“For a man who could not even give his own son a proper burial…”
A small pause.
“..He changed.”
His tone stayed calm.
But something about it felt… heavier.
“After that incident… after whatever that entity told him…”
Another pause.
“He began acting differently.”
A slight shift in posture.
“The wars that followed… many of them lacked clear purpose.”
“Expansion. Victory.”
“Again and again.”
Virell’s gaze drifted slightly, unfocused for just a moment.
“As if he were pursuing something.”
A beat.
“…Something I do not yet understand.”
Silence lingered.
Then the interviewer spoke again.
“…And the children.”
A quieter tone now.
“Some of them died as a result of exposure to the branch. Is that correct?”
Virell nodded once.
“Yes.”
No attempt to soften it.
“Many did.”
The interviewer continued.
“And the survivors…”
A pause.
“They were eventually deployed in war. In secret.”
“Used in operations that resulted in… a significant number of successful outcomes.”
Another pause.
“But most of them-aside from General Vemmora-did not survive long-term.”
Silence.
Virell didn’t interrupt.
The interviewer continued, voice tightening slightly.
“These children… were taken from orphanages.”
“From impoverished areas.”
“From situations where they could be easily manipulated.”
“ From lack of protection.”
A sharper tone now.
“They were exploited.”
“Lied to.”
“Used.”
A pause.
“Is that accurate?”
Virell exhaled slowly.
“…Ah.”
A faint, almost knowing sound.
“The part Vemmora wants addressed the most.”
A brief silence.
Then-
“Yes.”
Flat. Direct.
“No point denying it.”
The room felt heavier.
The projector hummed softly in the background.
The interviewer spoke again.
“And this was authorized by the Demon King?”
Virell didn’t hesitate.
“He was the one who proposed it.”
A pause.
The interviewer hesitated for the first time.
“…Did he not care?”
Silence.
A long one this time.
Then Virell spoke.
“…Care?”
He repeated the word as if testing it.
Then gave a faint shake of his head.
“He lost that.”
A pause.
“Whatever sense of care he had for others…”
“Died with his son.”
Another beat.
“And when his wife fell into a coma after the child’s death…That was the end of it.”
The grainy image flickered.
The interviewer took a deep breath.
“…We’re nearly done with this recording.”
A small shuffle of papers could be heard again.
“Just one more question.”
A brief pause.
“I understand that I am not permitted to ask about the experiments being conducted underground… beneath the former orphanage.”
A faint shift in tone.
“But-”
Another pause.
“Is whatever is being done there… using the new branches from the Tree of Life that appeared nearly ten years ago…”
A slight crackle in the audio.
“…capable of preventing the deterioration?”
A beat.
“…The end of the world?”
The phrasing hung in the air.
Vague.
Unclear.
But heavy.
Virell didn’t respond immediately.
Then-
“…I cannot disclose that information.”
Flat.
Final.
The interviewer didn’t push.
“…That’s fine.”
A short pause.
“But… may I ask one last thing?”
Virell gave a small, almost dismissive nod.
“Go ahead.”
The interviewer continued.
“The branch you obtained roughly forty-two years ago…”
A pause.
“…and the Tree of Life that suddenly appeared in Velmoria ten years ago-”
Another pause.
“Are they connected?”
Silence.
Then-
“…Yes.”
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Just a firm answer.
“They are the same.”
The words settled heavily in the room.
The faint hum of the projector filled the silence again.
Then the interviewer spoke one last time.
“…Thank you, Dr. Virell.”
A small pause.
“This concludes the recording.”
The film crackled softly as it continued for a second longer-
Then-
Cut.
Val (first person point of View)
The film cut out.
The light on the wall flickered once… then disappeared.
The projector continued spinning for a few seconds, the soft mechanical hum lingering in the quiet room.
Then-
Click.
Silence.
I didn’t move.
My hands rested loosely against the arms of the chair, my gaze still fixed on the blank wall where the image had been just moments ago.
“…Huh.”
The word came out quietly.
Not confused.
Not shocked.
Just… processing.
I leaned back slightly, exhaling through my nose.
The room felt heavier now.
Not because of what I saw-
But because of what it meant.
Answers had been given.
Clear ones.
Direct ones.
And yet-
“…Yeah.”
My eyes lowered slightly.
There were still so many gaps.
So many things that didn’t line up.
Questions stacked on top of questions, each answer somehow making the whole thing feel even bigger instead of smaller.
My fingers tapped lightly against the chair.
Slow.
Rhythmic.
“…Vemmora.”
The name sat quietly in my thoughts.
The succubus.
The one who killed me.
The one from the recording.
My gaze drifted slightly toward the bed.
Toward the corpse.
The pieces were starting to line up. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough.
I exhaled again, slower this time.
“…Preventing the deterioration…”
The phrase lingered..
“…And the end of the world.”
My fingers stilled.
That part didn’t sit right.
Not because it was confusing-
But because of how casually it had been said.
Like it was already understood.
Like it was already happening.
“…What did he mean by that…and that branch…”
One.
Just one.
And it caused all of that.
Everything I had just seen.
Everything he described.
Change things.
Rewrite things.
Create… whatever that thing was. The features decribed that were similar to the creatures I encountered so far.
“…That’s not normal.”
That wasn’t just powerful.
That was something else entirely.
Something wrong.
And the fact that the branch existed before the Tree of Life-
My expression shifted slightly.
“…That doesn’t make sense either.”
Because in my understanding-
In what I knew-
The Tree of Life had always been there.
Not recent.
Not new.
It was constant.
Part of the world I knew.
But the recording made it sound like it appeared recently.
Ten years ago.
“…It’s not supposed to be that surprising.” I muttered quietly.“…Not with everything I’ve already seen.
But still-
There was an unease sitting in my chest.
The Tree of Life being different…
That felt…
Important.
More than everything else.
I couldn’t explain why.
But it did.
Silence followed again.
Then-
I leaned forward.
The chair creaked faintly as I moved.
“…Alright.”
No point sitting here thinking alot.
Not when I had more film reels to look at.
My hand reached out toward the projector.
Carefully, I removed the first reel, setting it aside.
The metal clicked softly as it came loose.
Then-
I reached into my lap.
The second reel.
The one from the cafeteria.
My fingers turned it slightly, the dim light catching along its edges.
“…Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I murmured.
I leaned forward again, guiding the film into place.
This time-
It was easier.
The reel clicked in without resistance.
The strip threaded through smoothly.
Practice already kicking in.
“…Huh.”
A faint, almost amused breath escaped me.
“Getting the hang of it.”
I adjusted the last piece carefully.
Made sure everything was aligned.
Then leaned back slightly.
My hand hovered near the switch.
A brief pause.
Just a second.
Then-
“…Alright.”
I pressed it.
And waited.
Reel Film 2
The projector clicked again.
The reel spun.
Light flickered across the wall-
And an image formed.
I blinked.
“…Wait.”
A woman.
Sitting on a bed.
My eyes narrowed slightly.(Eyes became smaller. Context: Val looked at her more carefully)
There was something… familiar about her.
Not exact-
But close.
My gaze flicked, just for a second-
Toward the corpse on the bed behind me.
Then back to the screen.
“…She looks like-”
Yeah.
She did.
But not like that.
Not shriveled.
Not broken.
Alive.
Her skin was smooth.
Her posture relaxed, even if a little tired.
She looked older-
Maybe in her twenties. Early thirties.
And-
Yeah.
No doubt about it.
Horns.
A tail resting loosely beside her.
And her eyes-
Green.
Clear.
Bright.
Her hair fell around her shoulders in soft strands of purple.
Not brittle.
Not falling apart.
Just… normal.
Beautiful, even.
She wore something simple.
Loose.
Something like what patients in a hospital would wear.
She shifted slightly on the bed, glancing off to the side-past the camera.
“…Is it on?” she asked.
Her voice was soft.
Gentle.
A little nervous-but warm.
A man’s voice responded from off-screen.
“Yeah. It already started.”
She straightened immediately.
Then-
She gave a small, exaggerated cough into her hand.
“…Ahem.”
And then she smiled.
Bright.
Playful.
“Hi, Vemmora!”
She lifted a hand, waving lightly.
“Your older, hot sister-Lyrielle-is here!”
She leaned forward just a little, grin widening.
“See? Everything’s fine.”
I didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Just watched.
Lyrielle relaxed slightly, her smile softening.
“I know you told me you went off to become a soldier for Daemina…”
A small pause.
Her fingers curled slightly against the blanket.
“…But I never wanted that for you.”
Her voice stayed gentle.
But quieter now.
“I didn’t want you to have to live like that.”
Another pause.
“To make sacrifices… because of me.”
She shook her head lightly, like she was brushing the thought away.
Then-
Her expression brightened again.
“Oh-but you said you met someone, right?”
A small grin returned.
“A human?”
She tilted her head slightly, amused.
“…Garrick, was it?”
A soft laugh escaped her.
“You said he’s kind of grumpy.”
Another quiet laugh.
“I think I would’ve liked to meet him.”
Her eyes softened.(became gentler)
“…Actually, I know I would have.”
She glanced down briefly.
“The food you bring me from the cafeteria…”
A small smile tugged at her lips.
“It’s really good.”
She let out a quiet breath.
“Not just the quality-though that’s amazing-but…”
A pause.
Her voice softened even more.
“…It feels like it’s made with care.”
She looked back up.
“Like someone actually put thought into it.”
A faint, amused smile.
“So… I guess that grumpy human isn’t so bad, huh?”
She let out a small laugh.
Then-
Her expression shifted again.
Not sad.
But heavier.
“…I talked to the scientists.”
A pause.
“The serious-looking ones.”
She gave a small, almost teasing smile-
But it didn’t fully reach her eyes.
“I asked them to let you leave the program.”
Another pause.
“To give you a home.”
“Money.”
“Food.”
Her fingers tightened slightly against the fabric.
“…In exchange for me.”
Silence.
She exhaled slowly.
“I’m already sick anyway.”
The words were said lightly.
Too lightly.
Like she didn’t want them to matter.
“I didn’t want you stuck here because of me.”
Another pause.
“I wrote things down for you, too.”
Her expression softened again.
“A journal.”
“Letters.”
“Stuff you should know.”
“How to take care of yourself.”
A faint smile.
“…And, of course…”
A small breath.
“…a lot of ‘I love you’s.”
She laughed quietly under her breath.
“In case you ever needed to hear it.”
Her gaze drifted slightly.
“…That’s why I left that house.”
A pause.
“That broken place.”
Her voice lowered.
“I didn’t want you going back there.”
“I didn’t want you stuck in a place like that.”
A pause.
“Looking at something like this every day while taking care of me.”
Another pause.
“…You deserve better.”
Silence lingered.
Then-
Her expression cracked.(Emotion started showing. Context: She almost started crying.)
Just a little.
Her smile wavered.(Wavered-became unstable. Context: Her smile almost disappeared.)
“…I never wanted to be a burden to you.”
Her voice trembled slightly.
Barely.
“Not even once.”
Her eyes shimmered.(Shimmered-watery eyes (about to cry) Context: Her eyes filled with tears.)
But she blinked quickly.
Trying to hold it together.
“So…”
A small breath.
“…Please live your life.”
Another.
“The way you want to.”
A pause.
“…Away from Daemina, if you can.”
Silence.
Then-
A quiet, shaky laugh.
“I know you’ll be okay.”
She wiped quickly at one eye-
Then laughed again, softer this time.
“…You’re my sister, after all.”
Another breath.
Then-
She straightened slightly.
Forced the emotion down.
And suddenly-
She grinned.
One eye closing in an exaggerated wink.
Bright.
Playful.
Like before.
“Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Trying-so hard-to be reassuring.
Trying to make it convincing.
The film flickered softly.
Val pov(first person point of view)
The film ended.
The light flickered once-
Then vanished.
The projector spun for a few seconds longer before slowing.
Click.
Silence returned.
I leaned back in the chair, my head tilting slightly as my gaze drifted up to the ceiling.
My hand came up, resting over my face.
“…Oh no.”
The words slipped out quietly.
Flat.
Not loud.
Not panicked.
Just… there.
I stayed like that for a moment.
Still.
Then slowly shifted forward again, adjusting my posture.
My hand lowered.
“…Oh no.”
Softer this time.
Quieter.
The room felt heavier than before.
Not in the same way as the first reel.
This was different.
I leaned back once more, turning my head slightly-
My eyes landing on the bed.
On the body.
I didn’t say anything.
Didn’t think anything through.
Didn’t need to.
I could already picture it.
Enough of it.
More than enough.
Silence lingered.
Then-
I exhaled lightly and leaned forward.
“…Alright.”
My gaze shifted back to the projector.
One more reel.
I reached for it, picking up the third film and turning it slightly in my hands.
“…Let’s see if this still works.”
I moved carefully, guiding it into place.
The metal clicked faintly as it settled.
I adjusted the strip-
Lined it through the guides-
Everything where it should be.
Then I reached for the switch.
Pressed it.
For a split second-
Nothing.
Then-
A sharp snap.
The projector sparked.
A faint burning smell hit the air.
“…-!”
I immediately pulled my hand back, grabbing the reel and yanking it free before anything else could catch. (Yanking-pulling quickly Context: Val quickly pulled the reel out.)
The machine gave a weak whir-(Whir-machine spinning sound Context: The projector made a weak spinning sound.)
Then died completely.
Silence.
I stared at it for a second.
“…Great.”
I turned the reel slightly in my hands, checking it over.
Still intact.
No damage.
“…Guess that’s done.”
I set the reel down carefully beside the others.
My eyes lingered on the projector for another moment-
Then shifted away.
“…I’ll need another one.”
Not here.
Not anymore.
A brief pause.
“…Maybe the fifth door.”
That seemed likely.
Or at least-
It was the best and only option I had.
I exhaled quietly, then turned my attention toward the desk.
The journal.
I reached for it, flipping it open.
My eyes moved quickly across the pages.
Skimming.(Skimming-reading quickly. Context: Val read quickly without details.)
Not reading deeply-
Just enough to get a sense of it.
Notes.
Messy in places.
Careful in others.
“I love you” written more than once.
Lessons.
Advice.
Small reminders.
Names.
Mentions of a father.
A mother.
Fragments of a life.
Of something that used to be normal.
My fingers slowed slightly on one page-
Then moved on.
I didn’t linger.
Didn’t stop.
After a moment-
I closed it.
The cover fell shut with a soft thud.
Silence filled the room again.
I stayed still for a moment longer.
Then exhaled quietly.
“…Fifth door soon.”
That was the next step.
It had to be.
But-
My gaze shifted slightly around the room.
“…Not yet.”
There was something else.
Something I needed to do first.
I stood up from the chair, the legs scraping faintly against the floor.
My eyes drifted back to the desk.
To the journal.
A brief pause.
Then I reached out and picked it up.
The cover felt worn in my hands.
Used.
I hesitated for half a second-
Then opened my backpack and slid it inside.
“…Not like this helps me.”
I muttered under my breath.
It didn’t.
Not really.
I already got what I needed from it.
And yet-
I still took it.
A small breath left me.
“…I don’t like leaving things behind.”
Especially here.
My gaze flicked briefly toward the room.
Toward the walls.
The bed.
The stillness.
“…Anything could be useful.”
A short pause.
“…Or not.”
Either way-
I didn’t trust this place enough to leave something intact behind.
That… was probably part of it.
Maybe.
Or maybe-
I just didn’t like the idea of it staying here.
Untouched.
Forgotten.
I didn’t think about it too much.
Instead, I reached for the third reel.
The one from the estate.
The one I couldn’t watch.
I turned it slightly in my hands before placing it carefully into my backpack alongside the others.
Zipped it shut.
“…Yeah.”
A quiet breath.
My posture straightened slightly.
I didn’t move toward the door.
Not yet.
There was still something left to do.
I walked over to the bed.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Toward her.
I stopped beside it for a moment, just looking down.
Then-
Slowly-
I reached for the blanket.
Carefully, I pulled it up, covering her again.
Adjusting it.
Not because it mattered.
Not really.
But-
It felt wrong to just leave her like that.
I smoothed it slightly, making it as… presentable as I could.
Comfortable.
Even if it didn’t mean anything anymore.
A small pause.
Then-
I reached down and gently took her hand.
Cold.
Still.
Unmoving.
I held it anyway.
“…I don’t know if I’ll be a good doctor.”
My voice was quiet.
Calm.
Not forced.
Just… honest.
“I don’t even trust myself with something like that.”
A small breath.
“I know how I am.”
Another pause.
“But…”
My grip shifted slightly.(Grip-how you hold something. Context: Val adjusted how he held her hand.)
Not tighter.
Just… there.
“I still want to be one.”
Silence filled the room.
“I want to help people.”
A faint exhale.
“I want to find a way to keep them here.”
“With their families.”
“With the people they care about.”
My gaze lowered slightly.
“…Even if I don’t know you.”
A small pause.
“I’m not going to forget someone like you.”
Another.
“If anything…”
A quiet breath.
“This just makes me want it more.”
The words settled softly.
No tension.
No force.
Just truth.
“I don’t know what kind of doctors you had.”
My thumb shifted slightly against her hand.
“But…”
A faint pause.
“…I don’t think they were really trying to help you.”
Another breath.
“Not completely.”
“Not the way they should’ve.”
Silence.
“I don’t want to be like that.”
My voice stayed steady.
“I want to actually help people.”
“No conditions.”
“No… other reasons behind it.”
“Just because they need it.”
A small pause.
Then-
“…Sorry.”
The word came out quietly.
“For the projector.”
A faint breath.
“And…”
Another pause.
“…for not being able to give you a proper burial.”
My gaze drifted slightly.
“I would have if I could.”
Silence lingered.
Then-
“I don’t know where you are.”
A small breath.
“But I hope…”
Another pause.
“…it’s a lot more comfortable than this place.”
The words settled.
Quiet.
Still.
Then-
A faint, awkward exhale left me.
“…If it’s not…”
A small pause.
“…you should probably complain.”
Another.
“Feels like you’ve earned that much.”
Silence.
The room didn’t change.
Of course it didn’t.
But still-
I stayed there for just a second longer.
Holding her hand.
I let go of her hand.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Then stood up.
For a moment, I just looked at her-
Then turned away.
No more reason to stay.
My steps were quiet as I made my way back to the door-the one that had brought me here.
I didn’t hesitate this time.
I reached for the handle, pulled it open, and stepped through.
-
The corridor returned.
The same one.
Five doors lined up against the wall like nothing had changed.
Like none of it had happened.
I exhaled lightly.
“…Alright.”
My gaze shifted.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Then-
Five.
The last one.
I walked up to it, stopping just in front of the door.
My hand rested on the handle.
“…Please let this one not have something chasing me again.”
A small pause.
Then a quiet, resigned breath.(Resigned-accepting something bad. Context: Val expected something bad to happen again.)
“…But it’s going to happen anyway, isn’t it.”
For a split second-
I imagined a voice.
Familiar.
Dry.
Unhelpfully certain.
“Val, yes. Definitely.”
I huffed faintly.
“…Yeah. Figures.”
I pushed the door open and stepped through.
I paused immediately.
“…Oh.”
A hallway.
Large.
Clean.
Too clean.
White walls stretched in both directions.
The floor was smooth...sterile.
The space split ahead.
Left.
Right.
And further down-
More splits.
More turns.
More paths branching off into more turns.
“…That’s…”
My eyes drifted upward slightly.
Ventilation(air systems) units lined the upper sections of the walls and ceiling.
Fans.
Actually running.
A low, constant hum filled the air.
Thin pipes ran neatly alongside them, arranged in organized lines that disappeared deeper into the structure.
Everything looked-
Functional.
Maintained.
Alive.
Not abandoned.
Not broken.
Just…
Empty.
I stood there for a second longer, taking it all in.
Then let out a quiet breath.
“…I’m going to get lost, aren’t I?”
They're like right next to each other now aren't they
That answer will be revealed.