"Don't worry. I know it looks a little frightening, but in reality, it's only because the machine itself is so enormous."
Abigail stood before Lloyd, tightening the various mechanical restraints around the chair. She was right. The machine was massive. Cables and steel spread outward like the roots of some colossal tree, branching from the chair beneath Lloyd's feet. As he settled into the seat, he could clearly feel the faint tremors running through the metal, as though some monstrous creature were moving beneath the earth. In truth, it was merely steam surging violently through the pipes below.
As one of the most important research institutions operated by the Cleansing Bureau, the scientific district beneath Black Mountain Hospital, much like the Perpetual Pump beneath the Mechanical Institute, drew its power directly from the Pillars of the Furnace. Immense quantities of energy coursed through the machinery, and with the ongoing development of Lacrimite, that power had only grown more formidable.
Lloyd raised his head and looked around. Blinding lights shone from above, forcing him to squint. Around him stood a cage-like structure, and Lloyd was seated at its very center.
Arthur had given him a rough explanation on the way here. They called this place the Birdcage. When Lloyd first heard the name, he hadn't understood what it meant. Now, sitting here, he was beginning to see.
He felt like a delicate little bird locked inside a cage of steel. Because of the harsh light overhead, Lloyd could barely make out the figures beyond the bars, but he could feel them clearly enough—several pairs of eyes were fixed upon him.
"What is this machine for?" Lloyd asked.
"To analyze the brain… It's actually rather complicated, and somewhat contradictory when you get down to it. But I still have a little time, so I can explain."
As Abigail spoke, the rattling of wheels echoed through the chamber. Medical personnel pushed a cart to the foot of the platform, took out several fluid bags and syringes, and expertly hung them from the metal frame beside Lloyd. Then they inserted a needle into his arm.
"This is an emergency precaution. The technology is still immature, after all, and something could go wrong during the procedure. You're a Witcher, too, so your body isn't exactly the same as an ordinary person's… If something does happen, these drugs will be injected into you immediately. I have no idea how much your Secret Blood can withstand, but at least this gives us some measure of protection."
With several crisp metallic clicks, Lloyd was completely restrained in the chair. Steel nearly enveloped his entire body. It looked like a throne, yet it was also unmistakably a cage.
"This feels like an electric chair."
"More or less. The biggest difference is that the amount of electricity an execution chair delivers would kill you… probably. This one won't. At worst, you'll experience some pain and perhaps a few hallucinations."
Abigail waved her hand, signaling the technicians to reconnect the severed cables.
"This machine is rather difficult to explain. The Cleansing Bureau has always viewed the world through the lens of reason, and my research institute is even more devoted to that principle. But because of that very devotion to reason, Merlin and I have had our differences in recent years."
Abigail suddenly reached out and placed her hand against Lloyd's head. Bound as he was, Lloyd could do little to resist.
"Take the human brain, for example. From a purely rational perspective, humanity has no such thing as free will or a soul. Every action we take is merely the result of that mass of viscous, rotten flesh beneath our skulls issuing commands. As for the corruption caused by the Demons, that too could be understood as… some form of radiation, perhaps? Or something else entirely. Whatever it is, it remains unknown to us, so we might as well call it whatever we like.
"Once corrupted, the human brain begins to 'degenerate' first, transforming into a Demon, and then transmitting that corruption onward. It's rather like some kind of… plague."
Lloyd frowned slightly. In Sherman's notes, the old man had expressed a similar theory. But the truth behind the mist remained something no one truly understood.
"Merlin is, after all, an alchemist. Though he also advocates reason, his former identity sometimes binds him to older ways of thinking. He believes that humans… may actually possess souls, and that corruption is a form of decay inflicted upon those souls.
"But you probably know some of these theories already. They're ultimately nothing more than useless speculation. This, however, concerns the machine itself."
Abigail's expression grew solemn.
"We are exploring the unknown through means we cannot fully control. And what we uncover is often something even beyond the limits of our current understanding."
She gently ran her fingers across the steel surface. Once, it had been covered in blood. Some of the people who had sat in this chair had emerged as grotesque monsters. Others had successfully received the power and become Rangers.
The sight inevitably reminded Abigail of the alchemical rituals of old. Those mysterious ceremonies shrouded in secrets and this experiment were disturbingly alike. The Birdcage was the altar. Lloyd was the sacrifice about to be offered upon it.
"This machine is currently the most precise instrument we possess for detecting corruption. Whether that so-called False Grail is some strange kind of 'plague,' or, as Merlin suspects, some mysterious spiritual entity, it doesn't matter what form it takes. As long as it exists, it must have some effect upon your brain."
"Like the wind," Lloyd said. "We can't see it, but we can hear it and feel it…"
"Exactly. So the first step of the experiment is to determine whether there are any obvious abnormalities in your brain. And if there are, we need to find out whether those abnormalities are actually caused by the False Grail."
Once all preparations were complete, Abigail descended from the platform. The moment she left the testing area, Merlin's voice came through the speakers.
"How are you feeling, Lloyd?"
"Could be worse."
"Good. We don't know what's going to happen next. This machine hasn't been used in a very long time." Merlin paused. "So… this might hurt a little."
As he spoke, Merlin pulled down the lever.
Without the slightest warning, an enormous current surged through the entire Birdcage. Brilliant sparks erupted across the steel framework. Lloyd felt only a faint tingling at first, but in the next instant it was as though a tremendous fist had slammed directly into his skull. An invisible executioner seemed to be torturing him, trying to pry open his head and discover what, exactly, lay hidden beneath that mass of rotten flesh.
The sudden agony left Lloyd momentarily dazed. The lights overhead flickered violently. With each flash, the colorful world before his eyes began to lose its color. In the end, all that remained was a bleak world of black and white—and even that darkness was slowly fading, as though some greater darkness were swallowing him whole.
"Lloyd, there's a small button on the side of the armrest to your left. I need you to press it once every five seconds. It will prove to me that you're still conscious."
Through the haze, Merlin's voice reached him again. Enduring the excruciating pain, Lloyd quickly found the button. He wanted nothing more than to curse them all, but the agony had consumed every ounce of his will. He didn't even have the strength to scream. Lloyd could only lower his head, silently counting the seconds, maintaining consciousness as he pressed the button again and again.
Above the chair, each press caused a ridiculous little indicator light to flicker on, then go dark.
High-frequency noise reverberated through the Birdcage. Steel plates began sliding aside, revealing the Differential Engine roaring behind them. Gears meshed and turned, driving the machinery forward. Fans rumbled loudly, drawing away the stifling heat. Electricity coursed through the apparatus, and at last, the complex signals originating from Lloyd's body were converted into graphs and expelled from a printer.
Limited by the technology of the age, the entire contraption looked absurd—bloated, cumbersome, almost laughable. And yet it was filled with something terrifyingly human.
To advance.
To advance at any cost.
Sheets of paper spilled from the machine, the ink still warm to the touch. With the limitations of current technology, humanity could not display the data in real time. So they printed a new set of readings every five seconds instead. The figures on the paper changed at astonishing speed before being gathered by Blue Jade.
Everyone was suddenly busy. Perhaps because the machine had gone unused for so long, a fire even broke out in one corner of the Birdcage.
Everything proceeded smoothly.
Until the Geiger counter inside the Birdcage suddenly turned red.
A piercing shriek tore through the chamber, shattering the calm. Then another Geiger counter turned red, followed by another. Soon, their wailing cries overlapped, filling the room with an ominous chorus.
"Is it Lloyd?" Arthur demanded.
Merlin frowned, clearly unable to understand what was happening.
"No… Lloyd is still conscious."
The ridiculous little indicator light continued to flicker. Lloyd remained awake, restraining the bloodlust within him.
"Then what's happening?" Abigail asked. "Where is the source of the corruption?"
The answer came in the form of a deep, thunderous roar.
The entire Birdcage began to shake violently. Emergency lights snapped on. Amid the chaos, Gawain's voice came through the broadcast.
"This is Knight Commander Gawain. We are currently stationed along the perimeter of the critical-care ward. We've detected a large number of Demons moving this way from the general ward—"
His words were swallowed by the deafening roar of gunfire.
Above ground, endless rain poured from the heavens. Ever-thickening storm clouds swallowed every trace of light. The cries of Demons merged with the howling wind, while muzzle flashes repeatedly illuminated the grotesque armor of the Old World God-Machines.
"Outer defenses of Black Mountain Hospital remain intact. The enemy appears to have emerged from within the hospital itself!"
Percival's voice rang out.
The Old World God-Machines were moving toward the area where the fighting had erupted. Percival, who was usually laughing and joking, was unusually serious this time. Through the narrow gaps in her visor, she stared toward the gunfire beneath the curtain of rain.
Countless Demons surged from beyond the downpour, clawing and shrieking as they stained the freezing rain with blood. Thunder rolled behind the clouds. Pale lightning tore through the darkness, and the creatures came on like beasts that had been unleashed from their cages.
"The New Order?" Abigail asked Arthur.
The Cleansing Bureau had always been wary of a potential attack from the New Order. They simply had never expected an assault on this scale.
Arthur's expression darkened.
"Something's wrong. The New Order doesn't have the ability to control Demons… No. Lawrence."
He seized the communicator and spoke urgently.
"Gawain, inspect the corpses. Report every characteristic you find."
It was impossible to tell whether the static in the communicator was caused by electricity or the storm. Gawain gritted his teeth and pressed forward. The terrible weather had severely impaired the vision systems of the Old World God-Machines. On the ground, the soldiers had donned heavy equipment and transformed the surrounding buildings into fortified positions.
The soldiers could not come out to assist Gawain. Protected by his God-Machine, he could withstand the suffocating downpour. They could not. Fighting Demons under these conditions would be nothing short of suicide.
Gawain swung his massive blade, impaling a Demon that leapt from behind the veil of mist and rain. He dragged the struggling remains backward.
Modern firepower had formed a wall of gunfire, sealing off the entire area. At the same time, Percival was approaching from the outer perimeter, preparing to exterminate the remaining Demons.
"Characteristics… Wait."
Gawain lifted the struggling creature into the air. A flash of lightning illuminated its body, revealing the tattered clothing beneath its monstrous form.
"The Demons… they're wearing Black Mountain Hospital patient gowns?"
"So it really is…"
Arthur slowly lowered the communicator.
At present, the only people capable of creating artificial Demons were those who possessed the Book of Revelation. Combined with Lloyd's earlier pursuit of the defective Secret Blood case, Arthur suddenly felt as though an old, carefully prepared storm had finally descended upon them.
Merlin had heard everything.
"The remnants of Lawrence?"
"Exactly. But how did they know everything that's happening here? Or…"
Arthur turned toward Merlin. His voice was calm, but beneath it lurked a murderous intent.
"Do we have one of their people inside the Bureau?"
Everything about this was too strange.
If the New Order had orchestrated the attack, Arthur would not have been surprised. But all signs now pointed toward Lawrence's surviving followers. Arthur had believed Lawrence's death would be a devastating blow to whatever force stood behind him.
Now, it seemed that force was far greater than he had imagined.
But there was no time to deal with it.
Arthur issued his orders.
"Gawain, hold the line. Kill every Demon. Percival, lead your unit directly to the research district above us. Protect this place."
"But the Demons—"
"That's an order!" Arthur roared. "Leave the Demons to Gawain. You protect the research district!"
"Arthur, Percival is behind the Demon horde. If she and Gawain attack from both sides, they can wipe the Demons out immediately." Abigail clearly did not understand Arthur's command.
"Then who will deal with the Witchers?"
Arthur's eyes were bloodshot.
"What… Witchers?"
"The New Order."
Arthur drew the firearm hidden beneath his coat, its magazine already loaded. His expression was grim.
"The New Order won't simply abandon Lloyd. After losing the Book of Revelation, they absolutely cannot afford to lose the False Grail as well. But this is Old Dunling. They cannot confront us head-on here.
"But now things are different.
"This is a conspiracy of opportunity. A collaboration, whether intentional or otherwise. We don't know what Lawrence's remnants hope to accomplish by attacking us, but under these circumstances, do you really think the New Order will let this opportunity pass?"
Abigail froze.
As a scholar, she knew little of such schemes and intrigues.
"The New Order has been hesitating all this time. But now the opportunity has arrived. They can not only reclaim the False Grail, they might even…"
Arthur stopped.
Only then did he realize the terrifying truth.
His gaze shifted away from Abigail and settled on Merlin. His voice trembled slightly.
"They could decapitate the entire elite force of the Cleansing Bureau right here."
…
All the foreshadowing that had been laid over so much time, all the threads woven through countless coincidences, finally converged here—and erupted.
Anthony raised his head and gazed at the clouds churning overhead. Slowly, he opened his hand and allowed the sheet of paper, written in Secret Blood, to be carried away by the wind until the torrential rain and raging storm tore it to shreds.
"So who exactly sent this letter?"
Samuel tightened his raincoat and shouted toward Anthony through the storm.
"I don't know. But one thing is certain…"
Anthony stared into the distance.
"He wasn't lying."
Flames erupted at the far end of the curtain of rain. The howls of Demons merged with the wind and the downpour, creating a scene that looked like the end of the world.
"We're going to attack?" Samuel asked. "That would be suicide. Even if we succeed in killing Arthur and the others, it would trigger a war between the Church of the Gospel and Invervig."
"I know."
Anthony's expression remained emotionless.
"That's why all we need to do is watch. The rest can be left to Moriarty."
"And if he fails?"
"What does his failure have to do with us?"
Anthony turned the question back on him.
Then he repeated the very same words he had once spoken to Arthur and Lloyd.
"The New Order has no Witcher named James Moriarty. It was true in the past, and it remains true now."
A sudden chill ran through Samuel.
He looked at Anthony standing beside him and, for the first time, found the man strangely unfamiliar.
And yet, at the same time, it felt as though he were finally meeting Anthony for the first time.