Carine Forest — Outer Camp
"Step aside."
Darian's voice carried enough force that several nearby retainers instinctively straightened.
"I want to meet him."
The Laosian soldier standing guard outside the black command tent did not move.
His armor was still stained with dried black blood from the forest.
"Apologies, Lord Voss," he replied evenly, "but Lord Logos has declared that no one is to enter."
Darian's jaw tightened.
"You said that five days ago."
Mirelle stood nearby with her arms folded, visibly irritated.
"Not only have you refused to explain what he is doing," she said, "but your men keep dragging more of those things out of the forest."
That part was true.
The camp had changed completely over the last few days.
What had begun as a noble hunting expedition now resembled a military quarantine zone.
Barricades split the camp into controlled sectors.
Watchfires burned through the night.
Armed patrols rotated constantly.
Entire sections had been sealed behind black cloth screens reinforced with iron stakes.
And every night—
More Laosian armors returned from the deeper forest.
Covered in mud.
Leaking black blood.
Dragging chained shapes behind them.
No one asked questions anymore.
Because the screams had already answered enough.
Darian pointed toward the restricted section.
"And whatever is happening in there…"
A distant metallic screech echoed from somewhere beyond the tents.
Several nearby horses panicked instantly.
Darian's expression darkened.
"…is getting worse."
The guard remained perfectly still.
"My lord instructed that he is not to be interrupted."
"That is not reassuring."
The soldier paused.
"I am only repeating what I was told."
Mirelle rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"You Laos people are worse than church fanatics."
From deeper within the restricted area—
Another sound emerged.
Wet.
Violent.
Followed by a low grinding noise of metal under pressure.
Then silence.
Darian stared toward the tents.
"…How many specimens does he have now?"
The guard answered immediately.
"Seven."
Mirelle's eyes widened slightly.
"You brought back seven of those things?"
"Alive?" Darian asked immediately.
The soldier paused for exactly long enough to make the answer horrifying.
"…Partially."
Darian looked genuinely disturbed.
"That is not a real answer."
Before the guard could respond—
The flap of the central black tent suddenly opened.
Steam rolled out first.
Then smell.
Rot.
Blood.
Burned flesh.
And beneath it all—
Something chemical.
Kleber stepped out looking like a man who had aged several years in under a week.
His sleeves were rolled halfway up.
Dark stains covered his gloves.
There was dried blood near his jaw.
Darian pointed immediately.
"You."
Kleber looked up slowly.
"…Ah."
"The loud ones."
Mirelle narrowed her eyes.
"What is happening in there?"
Kleber stared at both of them for several long seconds.
Then sighed deeply.
"You know," he muttered, "I genuinely believed my lord exaggerated sometimes."
Darian frowned.
"About what?"
Kleber glanced back toward the tent.
"About humanity's willingness to pursue certain knowledge."
Silence.
That answer somehow made everything worse.
Mirelle stepped forward.
"What did he find?"
Kleber opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
His expression shifted strangely.
Not fear.
Not disgust.
Fatigue.
Complete fatigue.
"I don't know," he admitted slowly.
"He explains everything to me."
"I retrieve the samples."
"I help catalogue the findings."
A pause.
"And I still don't understand half of it."
That was not the voice of someone joking anymore.
Darian folded his arms.
"Then tell us what you do understand."
Kleber looked toward the black tent again.
Then lowered his voice.
"The creatures are alive."
"We already know that."
"No," Kleber replied quietly.
"You do not."
A pause.
"The parasites preserve biological function after death."
Silence.
Mirelle frowned immediately.
"That is impossible."
"That was also my professional opinion."
Darian's expression hardened.
"You are saying those things were corpses?"
"Not entirely."
Kleber rubbed at his eyes.
"That is apparently the problem."
The forest wind shifted suddenly.
Cold air rolled through the camp.
Everyone instinctively glanced toward the deeper woods.
Even the Laosian guards.
Because Carine Forest had become quieter over the last five days.
Not calmer.
Quieter.
Like something listening.
Then—
A scream erupted from inside the black tent.
Human.
Darian's hand moved instantly toward his hammer.
Mirelle stepped forward sharply.
"What was that?!"
Kleber did not react.
That was the worst part.
"…Subject Four," he said tiredly.
"He feels pain more intensely than expected."
Darian stared at him.
"What in the hell does that mean?"
"I genuinely do not know anymore."
Mirelle looked disturbed now.
Truly disturbed.
"What exactly is Logos doing in there?"
Kleber remained silent for several seconds.
Then answered quietly:
"Learning."
Another scream tore through the tent walls.
Longer this time.
Wet near the end.
Darian grimaced.
"That sounds less like learning and more like torture."
Kleber gave him a tired look.
"I told you those things are still partially alive."
"How would you feel if someone kept cutting into you for intellectual curiosity?"
Darian did not answer.
Because he suddenly was not entirely certain Logos wouldn't.
Mirelle's voice lowered.
"And the faces?"
Kleber looked away immediately.
That alone was enough to unsettle both nobles.
"Are they really human?"
Kleber looked exhausted suddenly.
Not physically.
Mentally.
"He has not reached a final conclusion yet."
"That is not what I asked."
Kleber hesitated.
Then answered quietly:
"…Some of them still try to speak."
Silence fell completely.
Even the wind seemed quieter after that.
Darian slowly placed an arm around Kleber's shoulder.
"Until this nightmare ends," he said firmly, "you are eating meals with us."
Kleber looked genuinely tempted for half a second.
Then sighed.
"I cannot."
"Why not?"
Kleber looked toward the black tent.
"…Because my lord only remembers to eat when my stomach starts growling."
Darian blinked.
Mirelle stared.
Kleber rubbed his face tiredly.
"If I leave him alone too long…"
He paused.
"…he will accidentally starve himself while dissecting horrors."
From inside the tent—
Logos's voice suddenly rang out.
"Kleber."
Kleber closed his eyes immediately.
"…There it is."
Another pause.
Then Logos called again:
"I require another spine."
Darian stared at the tent in absolute silence.
Then looked slowly back toward Kleber.
"…You know what?"
A pause.
"I suddenly understand why you drink."