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Eldritch Horror? No, I'm A Doctor
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CRACK.
The oak table split down the middle, both halves crashing to the floor with a boom that rattled the windows.
Major General Ralph Waibel, head of the Supernatural Division, stood with both fists planted where the table had been, his knuckles white with fury. His face was flushed red, veins bulging at his temples.
"DO YOU THINK ANY OF THIS MAKES ANY FUCKING SENSE?!"
In the Azareth Empire, there was no Hunter Bureau. The military reigned supreme over all supernatural affairs. Every soldier with hunter powers fell under the jurisdiction of the Supernatural Division, and Ralph Waibel, a Mythical-rank hunter, managed them all.
And right now, he was losing his goddamn mind.
Sitting across from him, completely unfazed by the display of violence, was Major General Axel Krane. He took a calm sip of tea from a porcelain cup, his expression neutral.
"What do you mean we should classify an outlaw hunter as a Phenomenon?!" Ralph roared, slamming his fist on what remained of the table.
"He killed our Brigadier General! You fucking moron! We should mobilize forces and kill him right now!"
Axel set his teacup down with deliberate precision.
"You don't understand, Ralph. Do my words hold any authority in this situation?"
"You're from the Research Division, not the fucking Supernatural Division!" Ralph shot back, his voice dripping with contempt.
"Your words mean nothing! They're worth as much as a grain of shit, Axel!"
Axel's calm facade cracked. He shot to his feet, tea forgotten.
"Watch your damn mouth, you fucking nerd! You sit on your ass all day pushing papers while real soldiers do the work!"
Ralph's eyes blazed.
"Ha! You fucking muscle brained cunt! You're supposed to be one of the nerdiest fucking soldiers out of all of us! You're the Research Division head! If you really cared about your position, that is!"
"I bet your subordinates are having nightmares having a fucking donkey as a boss! How does it feel to be the stupidest among everyone in your own division?!"
"You fucker—"
BANG.
The office door exploded inward, blown completely off its hinges. Splinters and twisted metal scattered across the floor.
A woman who looked like a secretary stormed in, her eyes blazing with fury.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" she bellowed.
"DO YOU KNOW HOW LOUD YOU ARE?! PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO WORK HERE!"
Both Major Generals froze.
"Sorry," Ralph mumbled.
"Sorry," Axel echoed.
They folded instantly, like children caught misbehaving.
"Fucking pussies," the woman cursed, then turned on her heel and walked out.
Ralph glanced at Axel. "Your secretary is still as scary as ever."
"No shit, Sherlock. Jennifer is like a demon."
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?!" Jennifer's voice came from the hallway, followed by the sound of her footsteps returning.
"Nothing! Nothing! Sorry!" Ralph called out quickly.
Jennifer appeared in the doorway again, her expression murderous.
"Watch your damn mouth, or I'm gonna cut your dick off and shove it into your fucking mouth. And I'm charging this door repair cost to you two. You break it, you fix it, old fuck."
She stormed off again.
Both Major Generals stared at the destroyed doorway for a long moment.
Finally, Ralph spoke. "Aren't we the ones who should be charging her? She broke the door."
Axel nodded slowly. "Yeah. That doesn't seem fair at all."
They looked at each other, united in their confusion and mild terror.
.
.
.
Then Ralph sighed and gestured at what remained of his office furniture.
"So. Let's get back to the topic. Do you really think that doctor should be classified as a Phenomenon?"
Axel sat back down, retrieving his teacup from the debris.
"I do."
"Explain. And make it good, because right now all I see is an outlaw who killed Brigadier General Varyn Helles. That's a capital offense. We should be sending strike teams, not classifying him as untouchable."
Axel took another sip of tea, gathering his thoughts. "Varyn isn't dead."
Ralph blinked. "What?"
"He's not dead. He's alive. Conscious. But he's been altered."
"Altered how?"
"The doctor fused Varyn with four other soldiers. They're now one entity. One body. Five brains."
The color drained from Ralph's face. "Five brains? In one person?"
"Yes. Emily Voss's body now houses five separate consciousness streams. Varyn, Emily, and three other soldiers. They all exist simultaneously in the same physical form. They can't separate. They share every thought, every sensation, every moment of existence. It's a complete fusion."
Ralph sat down slowly in his chair, processing the information.
"That's impossible. Even Mythical rank bio alchemists Elas Throne can't do that. The neural incompatibility alone would kill the host within minutes."
"And yet it happened," Axel said.
"I saw it with my own eyes. Colonel Steven Bright witnessed it too. The doctor used techniques we've never seen before. Tools that shouldn't exist. And the result is stable. Sustainable. Permanent."
"Tools that shouldn't exist," Ralph repeated. "What kind of tools?"
"Surgical instruments that appear to be alive. Tentacles that emerge from his back, each one holding different equipment. A chainsaw that regenerates tissue instead of destroying it. Needles that exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously. Anesthetics that keep patients conscious but paralyzed and pain free. And that's just what we observed directly."
Ralph leaned forward. "You're saying he's an alchemist?"
"I'm saying he might be. But if he is, he's nothing like any alchemist we've encountered. His methods are completely alien. And there's evidence to suggest he's augmented himself extensively."
"What evidence?"
"He wears full body coverage at all times. Plague doctor mask, coat, gloves, boots. Never shows skin. Never removes the mask. During surgical procedures, his body transforms. Tentacles emerge from his back. His hands have mouths in the palms with teeth and tongues. He demonstrates abilities that suggest massive self-modification."
Ralph's expression was skeptical.
"Self modification is although really rare among high rank hunters. That doesn't make him a Phenomenon."
"The scale is what matters," Axel insisted.
"Colonel Steven underwent a procedure where the doctor implanted a single organ. One organ. And Steven gained an S-rank skill. Not a new ability that mimics an S-rank skill. An actual skill that appeared in his status window. Do you understand what that means?"
Ralph's eyes widened.
"That's impossible. Skills are innate. They can't be granted through surgery."
"And yet it happened. Steven's skill is called Eternal Polar Sovereign. It allows him to manipulate temperature on a massive scale. He demonstrated it during a gate break. Froze an entire region solid. That level of power from a single implanted organ."
"What organ?"
"Eye. But here's the critical part: if the doctor implanted one organ in Steven and granted an S-rank skill, how many organs has he implanted in himself?"
The implication settled over the room like a heavy blanket.
Ralph's jaw tightened. "You think he's augmented himself hundreds of times."
"He wears full body coverage. He has tentacles that emerge from his back during surgery. He has mouths in his palms. His presence alone creates pressure that can incapacitate people. When Varyn attempted to use Duke's Command, an S-rank mental domination skill, the doctor resisted effortlessly. Then he emitted pressure so intense that four soldiers passed out bleeding from their eyes."
"That's Mythical or Legendary rank level pressure."
"Exactly. And if he's implanted even fifty organs, each granting skills of varying ranks, his cumulative power could approach or exceed Legendary rank. General Malvick might be the only person in the Empire who could face him directly."
Ralph stood up and paced around the destroyed table.
"Okay. Let's say you're right. Let's say he's that powerful. That still doesn't explain why we should classify him as a Phenomenon instead of hunting him down. Powerful enemies should be eliminated, not protected."
"Because of what he can do," Axel said firmly.
"Think about it, Ralph. He created a five brained human. Something that should be impossible. Something that every bio alchemist in the world would say violates fundamental principles of neurology and consciousness. And he did it casually. In his clinic. With no preparation time. That level of capability means he's operating on principles we don't understand."
"So we study him. Capture him. Reverse-engineer his techniques."
"You're not listening." Axel's voice hardened.
"Phenomena aren't classified because they're dangerous. They're classified because trying to control them causes more damage than leaving them alone. The Eternal Gate can't be closed, so we built around it. The Whispering Forest can't be burned down, so we avoid it. The doctor can't be captured without massive casualties and potential destabilization of the entire supernatural medical field."
"That's a stretch."
"Is it? He created a five brained human. What else can he create? What if we attack him and he responds by creating bioweapons? Plagues? Monsters that make gate creatures look tame? He has the knowledge and capability to fundamentally alter human biology. That makes him one of the most dangerous individuals in the Empire, but also one of the most valuable."
Ralph stopped pacing. "Valuable?"
"He saved Colonel Steven's life with a single procedure. Granted him an S-rank skill. Imagine what he could do for other soldiers. Imagine what he could do for the Empire if we approached him correctly instead of treating him as an enemy."
"He killed Varyn."
"Varyn attacked him first," Axel countered.
"Varyn attempted mental domination on a civilian in his own clinic. Then Emily attacked with a Cataclysm-rank poison. The doctor defended himself. Yes, his response was extreme, but it was provoked. And technically, Varyn is still alive."
"As part of a five brained abomination!"
"An abomination that's conscious, stable, and sustainable. Varyn made his choice when he attacked. The doctor gave him exactly what he deserved."
Ralph glared at Axel. "You're defending him."
"I'm being pragmatic. We have three options.
One: We mobilize forces to kill him.
Result: massive casualties, potential failure, and we lose access to unprecedented medical capabilities.
Two: We capture him for study.
Result: same as option one, plus ethical nightmares and potential bioweapon retaliation.
Three: We classify him as Phenomenon-08 and establish diplomatic relations.
Result: minimal risk, potential benefits, and the Empire gains access to his services if handled correctly."
"You're assuming he'll cooperate."
"I'm assuming he'll continue doing what he's already doing, running his clinic and treating patients. He's not expansionist. He's not aggressive unless provoked. He operates in a fixed location. He follows a predictable pattern. Those are ideal conditions for a Phenomenon classification."
Ralph crossed his arms.
"And if he decides to expand? If he starts creating more five-brained humans? If he builds an army?"
"Then we re evaluate. But right now, he's a doctor running a clinic. Yes, he has extreme capabilities. Yes, he's dangerous. But he's not actively threatening the Empire. Varyn threatened him, and Varyn paid the price. That's a lesson everyone else will learn: don't provoke the doctor."
"You're asking me to leave a potential Legendary rank threat unsupervised."
"I'm asking you to treat him like every other Phenomenon. We don't supervise the Eternal Gate. We build around it. We don't control the Whispering Forest. We avoid it. The doctor operates in the same category. Too dangerous to confront, too valuable to antagonize, too unpredictable to ignore completely."
Ralph was silent for a long moment, thinking. His fingers drummed against his leg in an irregular pattern.
Finally, he spoke. "I don't like this."
"You don't have to like it. You just have to accept that it's the best option."
"Fine. Compromise.
We classify him as a potential Phenomenon, pending confirmation.
We send an officer with stealth abilities to keep watch.
Passive surveillance only. No interference.
If he demonstrates behavior consistent with other Phenomena, we finalize the classification.
If he proves to be a manageable threat, we adjust accordingly. Deal?"
Axel considered this for a moment.
"One condition. The surveillance officer does not, under any circumstances, piss off the doctor or inconvenience him.
No confrontations. No tests. No attempts to gather samples or provoke reactions. Pure observation. If the officer gets caught and faces consequences, the Supernatural Division takes full responsibility and does not retaliate against the doctor. Agreed?"
Ralph grimaced but nodded.
"Agreed. But if he goes on a rampage, I'm mobilizing immediately."
"Fair enough."
They shook hands over the destroyed table.
Ralph sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.
"This is going to be a fucking headache. We need to make sure the cultists don't get wind of this. If those lunatics find out about a doctor who can create bio horrors, they'll swarm him."
"Yeah. For real." Axel nodded grimly.
"Keep this classification restricted. Only top level clearance. Phenomenon 08: The Doctor. Code Black protocols."
"Agreed."
They both stood there, staring at the ruined office and the pile of splintered wood that used to be a very expensive table.
"We're paying for that door, aren't we?" Ralph said quietly.
"Absolutely. Jennifer will hunt us down if we don't."
"Terrifying woman."
"Demon"
.
.
.
Outside the office, down the hallway near the water coolers, a young officer in standard military uniform stood filling a paper cup. His movements were casual, unhurried. Just another soldier on break getting some water during a long shift.
But his ears had been carefully positioned to catch every word of the conversation inside the Major Generals' office. The acoustics in this particular hallway were excellent for eavesdropping if you knew where to stand.
When the meeting concluded and he heard footsteps approaching the doorway, he quickly finished filling his cup and walked away, turning down a side corridor. Once he was certain he was alone, he ducked into an empty storage room and locked the door behind him.
From inside his jacket, he pulled out a small device. It looked vaguely like a communication crystal, but the markings on its surface were all wrong. The runes were older than any official military encryption, twisted and alien. They pulsed with a faint, sickly green light that hurt to look at directly.
The officer pressed his thumb against the crystal's surface and whispered an activation phrase in a language that predated the Empire by centuries.
The crystal hummed to life with a sound like grinding bones.
A voice answered immediately. It was raspy and hoarse, like gravel scraping against raw meat. Each word carried an unnatural weight that made the air in the storage room feel thicker.
"Report."
"Mr. Steinholtz," the officer said quietly, keeping his voice low even though he was alone. "I have new information regarding a potential Phenomenon. The Supernatural Division has just classified an individual known as 'The Doctor.' He operates a clinic in the industrial district. Capabilities include advanced bio-modification, creation of multi-consciousness entities, and potential Legendary-rank combat power. I will compile a full written report with all details by tonight."
There was a pause on the other end. The silence was heavy, pregnant with consideration.
Then the raspy voice spoke again, carrying weight and certainty and something else. Something that sounded almost like hunger.
"Good. Continue surveillance. Gather everything you can. Names. Locations. Procedures. Patients. Techniques. Methods. Everything. Do not engage. Do not interfere. Only observe and report."
"Understood, sir."
The voice lowered to a reverential whisper, and the temperature in the storage room dropped several degrees.
"May the Goat of a Thousand Young take you."
The officer bowed his head instinctively, even though no one could see him in the locked room. His voice carried the same reverence, the same devotion, the same unshakeable faith.
"May the Goat of a Thousand Young take you."
The crystal went dark and cold in his hand.
The officer tucked it back into his jacket, composed himself, and unlocked the storage room door. He returned to his duties as if nothing had happened, just another faceless soldier in the vast machinery of the Azareth Empire military.
But somewhere in the depths of the Empire, in places where light did not reach and sanity did not tread, the cultists stirred.
They had found a new target.