On one of the many floors of the empire state building- no, the empire state buildings shadow. Frank Castle, the glorious marine who should have become the famous hero, "The Punisher", this man who should have been the epitome of blood justice-
Now sat in front of a desk, piled atop of it were reports and books. It was not the image of a typical office worker's desk though as the books carried an ancient air about them. Moreover, the desk was not only piled up with paper but also a bunch of gems scattered about.
Frank stared at the disaster that was his desk, a sigh escaping his lips as he thought about the woman who he had just escorted to his boss's room.
"She's probably going to be sent here in the future…"
Thinking of the woman's very professional air, he couldn't help but click his tongue thinking about what crazy activities his boss had started doing with the woman.
"Better not hope for that, it's better if you start to reduce the amount of documents on your desk… also, clean it up"
A pleasant yet cold voice scolded from behind Frank, turning his head, he met eye to eye with his current supervisor, a blue haired woman sporting a typical office lady attire with matching glasses.
"Miss Izabella, maybe I could do better in field operations?"
Although Frank desperately wanted to lash out, he knew his own ability. Unfortunately, even the woman before him was leagues stronger than him.
"Frank, even I would love to send you to your death, trust me, the number of people wanting you out is really too much. But! As much as I want to see you die on a mission, the casualty reduction policy enacted by the master has prevented us from sending incapable staff to our current field operations"
She spoke with a voice filled with disdain, Frank knew that he was not really wanted by this division.
After all, he was currently tasked with sorting through intelligence. His task should have been an easy one, even though he had experience in intelligence gathering, sorting through documents and all the nightmarish tasks related to paperwork.
But, all that experience and knowledge he had was worthless at the moment.
After all, he was not part of a super secret spy organization, instead he was part of an even more secretive organization of magic users.
Instead of computers they used gems that directly transmit information into your brain.
Efficiency wise, it was a fucking miracle, Frank knew that many organizations and office workers would pay any price to be able to use such tools.
But this tool had its own side effect, the worst one was the intense pain that comes with the rapid acquisition of information.
If one thinks about it, copying information in a computer is easy, ctr+c, ctr+v, then all the documents could be replicated in a matter of seconds.
This is the process the gems emulate but instead of a computer it was the human brain that was going through the processes.
Its efficiency was great, any magus could immediately memorize a 50 page report by crushing a gem. It removed the reading time but that did not mean that comprehension would come with memorization.
Upon obtaining the information, the spell would force one's brain to not only memorize but also "analyze" the information.
After all, when reading an article the mind does not simply scan the words and imprint them in the brain. The words, the sentences, the whole report would paint a picture and the transmitted information is "comprehended" while reading.
But what would happen if that "comprehension" time that normally takes an hour, occurs in a split second?
Moreover, it was not only words, numbers, figures, notes… all the information would be directly imparted into one's brain and all of the information would be "comprehended" in a second.
Frank saw his boss crush hundreds of these gems and smile before giving out orders. It has to be noted that the boss, prior to crushing the gems, just came back from a night of revelry. He did not take a single look at any of the notes prior and he basically knew nothing about the occurrences in the previous week.
But after crushing a couple hundred gems, the boss was able to grasp the whole situation and even make his own inference on various things.
The boss went from knowing jack shit to becoming all knowing in a mere second!
That was what you call efficiency, but Frank was only amazed for a moment. The feeling of rapid and sudden comprehension was not something a human was supposed to do.
For Frank, he could barely go through five gems before collapsing.
Although the information he went through was minimal, even less than what he could do with a computer, it was in fact, more draining than any other work he had to do.
But the worst part?
Frank swept his gaze over everyone else in the large office space. They were all moving quickly, crushing gems before writing a report. They did this task continuously and their tables were well organized unlike his.
"I'm really not good with this kind of work…"
He tried to persuade his supervisor but he still received a quick rejection.
"I will reiterate, in terms of ability you will just die out in the field. Sending you out would only lead to me making a mistake, an error in judgement, not to mention, you, Frank Castle, are one of the few "human" members of the enforcers. Although you're worthless, your existence is a necessity."
Upon hearing her words, Frank's expression darkened.
Although he was thankful to James Barthomeloi for giving him an opportunity for vengeance, this did not mean that he was completely aligned with the organizations.
He had seen his own fair share of atrocities, he had seen the worst of mankind. But the world of magecraft was something he felt was darker than what many would initially think. Recalling the few magi in training, the people being brought here by James from all over the world-
'I just hope that they won't all turn out like him'
Frank was aware of how high ranking James was within the Clock Tower. Yet, this knowledge of him did not make things any better.
As someone who had caught a glimpse of James' ability, Frank was well aware of the mysteries that accompanied magecraft. Although some may say that his thoughts were naive or stupid, he stuck to his own thoughts.
The sight of hundreds of people with the same face was something that few would think is "normal".
Although he had not seen the process, the few bits of information he obtained allowed Frank to have a bit of an understanding of what a "homunculus" was.
That said, the information he had were of the "inferior" versions, incomparable to the perfect army which James had. The thought of less capable magi creating "inferior homunculi" made Frank feel a sense of… indignation.
Moreover, the ethical issues related to homunculi were just the tip of the iceberg.
'Curses, witchcraft, formal craft, rituals, evil gods…'
His knowledge was pretty diverse but at the same time, fragmented.
Frank did not undergo proper instruction of magecraft. He was basically pulled into the world suddenly and had the "necessary" information "imprinted" in his mind.
Those fragmented pieces of information though were enough for him to know just how dangerous magecraft was.
Aside from a feeling of inferiority when seeing his coworkers being able to work at a thousand times his own efficiency, Frank also felt that his true calling was not the quiet office space.
He really didn't see anything wrong with dying on the field, to Frank, the best thing he could do with his life was to bring help, even if it was just one other soul, he wanted to be able to prevent them from suffering a magecraft related disaster.
The experience with Ami Han and her grandmother was just one of the things that spurned his will.
The helpless orphans in India used as a sacrifice in unsuccessful rituals, the suicides in Africa, there were even some crazy psychopaths who started a "wish granting" ritual in the US.
The world was not lacking in madmen, what it lacked were people to handle these madmen.
Although Frank knew that the Clock Tower and Mage Association were probably sending people, more capable than him to handle such matters-
'If the boss is used as a basis, most enforcers, magi raised in the mystical world, would rarely care about human lives… moreover- they are just as mad as the people they chase…'
Frank recalled the people who he and his previous supervisor chased after.
Hilda had all the time in the world to prevent the tragedy, she could have easily stopped the rituals, and ended the problem before a drop of blood was spilled.
Yet, under the guise of "investigation", she allowed the rituals, the mad acts to proceed. She watched and recorded the whole event unfold, preventing Frank from making a move.
The cold look in her eyes as she watched the kids cry in pain as their bodies slowly turned to puddles of sludge was something he would never forget.
Moreover, the response of James, the expression he had, the disappointment in his eyes, born not out of the loss of life but the failure of the ritual made Frank have a deep understanding of the beings known as "magus".
Although he was powerless, although he could very well die, if it meant that he could save one more life, if he could prevent one more disaster… Frank was willing to take the risk.
Frank Castle, the man who would have been a walking machine of vengeance, now had turned into something else.
In the face of absolute madness, his mind had turned calm. His thoughts had become clear.
Yet, despite that, he was still rejected, unable to do anything but sit in front of desk, moving like a zombie organizing files.
He watched as his supervisor left, despite being pushed back and rejected, his eyes still held a light of desire. A will to not give up and as if answering this will of his, the main door to the office opened with a large bang.
All the workers simultaneously turned towards the person who opened the door.
"Red…"
Frank, familiar with this man couldn't help but mutter his name but that was not the end of it.
Much like the others, Frank also directed his gaze towards the door and as he did his eyes met with the man known as "Red".
As their gazes met, Red smiled, and Frank quickly understood-
He stood up, a look of shock on his face as a smile formed on his lips.
As all this happened in the shadows of the empire state building, in a dimension whose "door" exist in the same structure. Within the large castle that was called a school for magecraft, a young man with brown hair stared intently at a huge tube.
The tube was taller than him, inside it was filled with unknown liquid, within this a certain "being" was suspended.
Some would call it a human, its features were, after all, unmistakable human. But- there were some things that made it obviously, "inhuman:.
Most striking was the lack of genitalia, in fact, it even lacked a certain hole from which wastes should be expelled.
Within the solution of unknown liquid, the being was being observed by not only the young man but also a group of other individuals.
They were all of different age groups but their eyes went wide in shock as they observed the being within the suspension.
In front of the tube, a man dressed in the attire worn by instructors, his face having a striking resemblance with the being suspended in the tube spoke.
"What you see is a homunculus, this one was created from a sample of my own flesh, yes, it is my own creation. But this homunculus was created using a method that has certain limitations…"
The young man with brown hair, Victor von Doom did not continue to listen to the lecture as he had already gone over the notes in relation to this-
'The Einzbern homunculus, the most perfect homunculus outside that of those created by James Barthomeloi. Their method was the foundation of the new method James Barthomeloi utilized to create his army of homunculi.'
Recalling the information he had read in the books about homunculus, Victor was fascinated by these "artificial humans".
'The difference between a homunculus and a human is their connection to nature, a homunculus should never attain the status of being a "true human". Their existence will forever be labeled as being artificial, which leaves their soul and their being susceptible to possession and their bodies are malleable, without the protection of the root, they are beings that would best be used as the binding agent when creating humanoid chimeras…'
Victor turned his gaze towards his current instructor, the man who was supposed to be the "template" for the homunculus in the tank-
'Although they look the same, the homunculus created through James Barthomelois method brings about a being that is a "true human". Yet, they still carry the existence of being "an extension of nature". These homunculi are, by birth, superior humans'
Thinking of the army that was in James contol, a light of desire had been sparked in Victors heart.
'But if I want to create a vessel that could be used by departed souls, I could only choose to use the Einzbern method. James Barthomeloi creates a truly independent existence, protected by the world, their souls are not so easily controlled, possession and a takeover is near impossible.'
Recalling his goals, Victor turned his attention back towards the tank as he raised his hand.
"Yes Victor?"
"Sir, I would like to know if samples for the creation of homunculus need to be fresh, if they need to retain traces of Od, and other requirements…"
"To your query, neither James Barthomeloi or the Einzbern's method could achieve a 100% success rate for creating a homunculus with a base that is not freshly acquired and lacks traces of the individual Od. This is due in part to the need to trace the existence of the individual used as a basis from the root. Creating a homunculus is basically making a copy, not a new independent life. Of course, there exists a method to create a complete being from scratch, this method requires time. If you wish to learn more, you could apply for this directly to the headmaster.
Let me warn you though, this method involves the root, creating a "novel" existence is something that is nearing the level of "true magic" unless you are "GRAND" it would be impossible for you to employ such a method, even if you know how to."
Hearing the answer from his instructor, Victor did not show a look of hopelessness instead he had a fire of desire in his eyes as asked.
"What if I wish to create a homunculus in the form of a deceased individual? What are the requirements for the base material?"
When Victor finished asking his question, the other students all suddenly froze. Many of the people who took alchemy and the subject of "Homunculus Creation" were all relatively old men and women. These people all had various reasons as to why they wished to learn this magecraft.
Some wanted to create a vessel achieving a flawed yet workable method of immortality.
Others wished to create a perfect vessel, to escape their ailing bodies.
Their reasons were varied and all of them, not most but all of them were aged individuals with quite some life experience.
They were among the first people to take the gamble of studying in Magecraft, they were also, much like Victor, the type to deeply study the practice themselves.
Given their knowledge and experience, upon hearing Victor's question, they quickly understood what it was that made the young man take this class. The reason why he wanted to study the creation of homunculi.
But none of them dared to speak, none could, after all, even they had impure purposes for wanting this knowledge.
"Victor von Doom, remember, resurrection is a miracle beyond that of true magic. If you think you could achieve such a feat by reading a few books and studying a few months then you better stop before you end up causing a disaster"
Hearing the words of the instructor, none of the "students" spoke, yet, Victor still held the flames of desire in his eyes, in fact, they seem to be getting brighter-
The instructor, noticing this, did not seem bothered, instead a look of interest flashed in his eyes as he smiled while adding-
"That being said, chasing after the root, obtaining "true magic" that is the goal of all magi. We are all desperately chasing after the mysteries, trying to reach the Root. Our reason for having such goals may differ but the desire for the root would always be there… that is after all, the nature of magi"
He paused, scanning the expressions on the faces of all the students before letting out a sigh as he said-
"When you are able to start your pursuit of the root, only then would you truly become a true magus, only when you understood our true nature would you become one of us"
His words caused a stir amongst the "students" yet, his words did not spark any reaction from Victor. Instead, the flame in the young man's eyes was gradually suppressed as he calmed his own mind.
Seeing this, the instructor showed a gleeful expression as he continued his lesson, his mind marking the individual known as Victor von Doom.
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