Instantly, Eiran's demeanor changed. Veins outlined themselves across his body, his skin flushed pink, and his eyes glowed red—just for a moment before the five drops of Celestial Blood Essence within him calmed his rage.
He had said it to gauge the boy's reaction.
"Is that anger?" Dr. Gerard asked with a smirk. "You're his blood bank!"
Eiran tensed body, lay back down and tied up. His infant body couldn't handle that much rage without resting.
"You are a blood bank. Interesting. Someone must have saved you and taken you to the orphanage after the man was attacked."
The doctor began making connections as he spoke. "Inside the man who exploded was a strange blood that acted like parasite, and inside Dr. Miranda—the one you warned Kael about—was also a blood parasite. It's the Blood Monarch trying to reach you."
Dr. Gerard laughed. "Haha! That motherfucker fears my facility—that's why he sent his goons."
He calmed down and continued, "The important thing is that now I know, I can give you aid. You're leaving a fortified facility, for somewhere exposed. Now I can help you appropriately. But I need to know more. I need to understand your worth. What is your talent called? I can help you master it."
"You can't." Eiran's voice echoed inside the doctor's head. "I'm that vile man's nemesis."
"Nemesis? You have a talent that can counter him." The doctor grew curious.
Eiran sat up and gazed at the man contemplatively. "I heal through blood."
Dr. Gerard fell silent, then said, "Your talent and his are antagonistic. He can make his blood venomous, and you can heal—create antidotes."
Eiran didn't answer.
"Do you fall under Elemental or Controller?" the doctor asked again.
"What's the difference?"
"Elementals create and control their element. Usually associated with fire, water, or plants, but blood, bones, and others like that fall under it too. Controllers can only influence blood not create it."
"I think… I fall under Elemental." As Eiran spoke, a flow of blood appeared above them, making the doctor stand. "That's Grade 1 blood you created."
Eiran was curious but didn't ask questions. The blood vanished.
"Can you make it permanent?"
The entire room became covered with flowing blood, drifting around like a river in the air without touching anything.
Dr. Gerard immediately created bubble after bubble, harvesting the blood continuously until the room was nearly filled.
"Your value cannot be quantified. Anyone who can create Grade 1 blood is highly sought after."
The man went on to explain technical jargon that made Eiran fall asleep rather than spark his interest.
***
Eiran woke with a start, his skin covered in goosebumps. A sense of danger flared within him, making him feel more uncomfortable than he normally did in the facility.
He looked around but found himself in a bubble that didn't allow sight beyond its boundaries. He reached toward Dr. Gerard and spoke through his mind.
"Where are we?"
"Calm down. You're not in danger." The doctor's grating voice was strangely calming as Eiran sensed no lie in his words. Within the tone was confidence in what he said.
Dr. Gerard passed through a labyrinth, his bubble following him closely, never moving more than a foot away. People he passed either glared at him or bowed.
This brought back memories. 'This place is still the same... as it should be. Sigh!'
He recalled the time he came here to forge soldiers for his cause, or when he brought his enemies to be transformed into allies.
The number of people he had brought here was staggering—to the point he became well-known and feared.
A smile tugged at the edge of his lips as he entered a long chamber.
Along the walls were sarcophagi arranged in rows, some trembling, some still. Before some of them stood people dressed completely in black, including their faces, holding a screaming, emaciated man with a chain on his neck that glowed every time he used his talent.
The man was struck in the head, slammed into a sarcophagus, and sealed inside. Heart-wrenching screams echoed from within before falling silent.
The people retrieved another man who screamed and thrashed around. This one was bulkier and gave them trouble, but as Dr. Gerard passed, they wrestled him into another empty sarcophagus.
Dr. Gerard had witnessed this countless times, he felt nothing now. "I don't like… this place," Eiran's soft voice reached him.
'He can feel their anguish even though I sealed him well,' the doctor noted but didn't answer the child.
He passed through another chamber with numerous stone beds, each holding a man or woman. Eyes closed, breathing so shallow you'd assume they were dead—an assumption reinforced by the nails hammered around their bodies, binding them to the stone beds.
The nail wounds leaked blood slowly but not fast enough to drain them completely. Some trembled, eyes fluttering; even in deep sleep, they recalled their brutal experiences.
He passed them all recalling his enemies had gone through this—it was a baptism needed to convert someone to your cause.
'Good old memories,' Dr. Gerard thought nostalgically.
So many chambers, each bringing something inhumane to the table. Most of the victims—or patients, as they were called—were awake, their eyes devoid of hope, their spirits thoroughly crushed.
He finally reached his destination: a woman, seductive in her movements, naked with long pink hair that moved to just cover the sensitive areas of her body.
"Gerard, my boy... it's an honor to meet you again. How long has it been? Fifty-four years." She was about to wrap her arms around him, allowing her hair to slip away.
"My master sent me." His grating voice held no warmth to match her excitement, and his words sent a shiver down her spine.
"Those who support this pyramid..."
"Calm down. His golden fist isn't coming yet."
She sighed. "You could have said that from the beginning." She walked away, her pink hair now wrapping around her body like clothing. "What does the old man want?" Her seductive nature was replaced with seriousness, slight fear, and anger.
"I hope he doesn't want me to give him some of my precious toys." She turned with a playful smile. "Does he want to support me?"
"Don't let him hear that," Dr. Gerard said, and she frowned. That was true—that man wouldn't appreciate such jokes.
"From the vault. His own vault that he allows to be kept here. I'll be going through some things and might take one."
"High and mighty, but still requires my services."
Dr. Gerard scoffed. "High and mighty? We keep those things here as hostages so he won't carelessly move against you."
She sighed, looking at the bulky man with his unlikable face and awful voice—all forged here. She was the one that turned him into a great warrior, a warmonger who struck fear into men's hearts.
He was even daring enough to steal from powerful individuals and blackmail them.
"You still miss me, right?" she asked pleadingly.
"Of course. But I'm exploring another part of life now." He said with a smirk—a practiced one she had taught him but he'd never mastered. "I'm on the clock."
"Yes. I'm curious about something inside you—something gentle. Can I get a look?"
"No. His gaze can reach here. You're delaying," Dr. Gerard said sternly.
"Ha! I'm doing this for you, not for him."
'That might be true, but you wouldn't want him here,' he thought.
They descended stairs, her eyes darting at the bubble she never asked about. She kept her mouth shut.
Eiran hadn't heard all of that, but he could feel another dangerous blood nearby. It reeked with the stench of violence, rage, and lust—almost matching that vile man but with different flavors he couldn't understand.
The bubble burst. He found himself on a stone platform in an ancient chamber filled with decayed murals and the stench of age.
It was clean, but Eiran's talent could sense that the place had once been drenched in blood and gore.
Something shook beside him, drawing his attention to five objects arranged around him in a circular pattern.
A black stone shook to his left. In front of him were mechanical prostatic arms, too large for him, resting motionless.
To his right was liquid metal, rippling beautifully. Eiran felt curious about it and a pull. Behind him were two objects: white bandages stacked, and a miniature humanoid that seemed to follow his gaze.
Eiran was confused. He had expected to be in a place where mechanical hands would be surgically attached, but here there was only one prosthetic hand, and the rest were... He didn't finish the thought as they lunged at him.
He instantly became hyper-focused. Their movements slowed in his perception as he conjured blood to protect himself, but this served as a catalyst—one of them sped up faster than his perception and grabbed him.
Eiran's mind went blank before he woke again with a start.