Silence took over Christopher's office, though it was flooded with anxiety. The tapping of the researcher's shoes echoed through the stillness, reverberating across the four walls. Alexander stood beneath a lamp, staring at the wind as he drifted into negative thoughts.
Ethan, however, focused on Christopher's notes. A board in the corner of the room was covered with illustrations and annotations made by him, along with calculations and traces of breakdowns born from failure.
What caught the Duke's attention most was a detailed drawing of an armor. The joints—shoulders, knees, and waist—were composed of terralithium fibers, a magical mineral compound based on a natural element. Resistant to cuts and impacts, yet it did not slow movement.
"Here," Luanne said, handing a cup to each of them. "Tea, to ease the anxiety."
"Thank you…" Alexander replied, distant and hesitant.
The soles of Christopher's formal shoes echoed again. He stopped when he picked up the tea—but only grew more tense.
"We won't speak without a lawyer. We'll fight for our innocence!" Christopher declared, his leg trembling again.
"It was the Emperor who decreed the sentence. Your fight will be in vain… A terralithium armor?" Ethan asked, pointing at the drawing.
At the mention of the Emperor, both researchers felt their mouths go dry. Alexander's stomach twisted as he tried to calm himself. Dr. Zivot coughed dryly and swallowed what little saliva he had.
"Ah… yes," he replied, tasting the tea. "The joints are made of terralithium, but the plates are reinforced metal. It's an exoskeleton that enhances the physical bursts of Deviants. It also serves as external energy storage…"
"Interesting," Lincoln commented from a distance.
"Very."
After agreeing with the Titan, Ethan turned toward the others with his cup in hand. Seeing the researchers' desperation, he looked for a place to sit.
He walked to an office chair in the corner, sat down, and took a sip of the tea—then showed mild disapproval. Not that it was bad; the Duke simply lacked the taste for it.
Setting the cup on a nearby table, he leaned back and intertwined his fingers.
"Of course, it was the Emperor… But we're here for a reason. Right, Lincoln?"
"Exactly," the Titan replied.
A spark of hope ignited in the researchers.
"A king and a Titan. Two lieutenants—one of them the Duke of Lawrence, the other the Priestess of Alunne. That's what you need to prove the Emperor's judgment is wrong. However—"
The Titan raised his voice at the end, interrupting Alexander before he could object. The researcher had intended to oppose involving a Titan in the matter, fearing the consequences if they were wrong.
"You will prove to me that you are innocent, and that this guilt does not originate from you. If all evidence points to that, I will defy imperial law. Therefore, be convincing… starting now."
Without waiting for objections, Christopher Zivot rose immediately, placing his cup on the nearest table. He walked to the board and began organizing his arguments beside Alexander.
Both were visibly frightened and anxious. They trembled and struggled to breathe steadily. The Titan understood—they were innocent, judging by their fear.
Not just fear of death, but fear of being crucified by people who would continue the attacks. Even if they were sentenced, the true culprits would use the scientists' names to carry on.
A disgrace for those who only sought progress.
"First of all, gentlemen… and lady," Alexander began. "We have been researching mana cores for nearly twenty years. We injected every kind of virus and contamination that could affect them. We conducted every possible test, because we needed a pure core for machines to function."
"And how do you know it worked?" Lincoln asked, arms crossed.
Zivot pulled a sheet from the board, revealing their first prototype:
the Saint Mercury Tram.
"The Saint Mercury Tram was entirely developed by us at the research center. From purifying the core to the rails—the foundation and the entire structural application. Beyond that, we also built the trains and railways connecting north to south. So, don't you find it convenient that the only technologies we developed exclusively here are the ones that survived?"
"Exactly. Too convenient…" Luanne muttered this time—not in disbelief, but in thought.
"Precisely, Priestess," Christopher agreed. "The problem began when the Empire intervened. They wanted mass production, but our Research Center isn't suited for that. We lack the funds and workforce. So private companies took over manufacturing…"
"And you blame them?" Luanne questioned skeptically. "What is the foundation of your argument?"
The researchers exchanged glances. Ethan seemed convinced, but the other two were not. It was a difficult test—the most important of their lives.
Their lives themselves were at stake.
Swallowing dryly, Christopher turned to the board and pointed with a wooden ruler.
"This is a purifier. A reinforced glass chamber whose sole purpose is to eliminate all impurities from a mana core. Any residue that could overload the core—whether debris or irregular energy—is extracted and drained through these tubes on the sides…"
"It's worth noting that the tubes are not reusable, so contamination is impossible through that route," Alexander added nervously, his voice trembling.
"What are the chances of contamination if all protocols are followed perfectly?" Ethan asked.
"Zero," Christopher answered immediately.
He walked to a table and leaned against it, tossing the ruler aside. Sweat formed on his forehead from the heat of his anxiety.
Facing the judges who still hesitated, he decided to push forward.
"We delivered both the materials and the instructions to build these purifiers. The core would remain isolated within them before being transferred to machines—"
"That's true. I've seen an engine sealed in a similar container," Ethan confirmed.
"The industries then assigned this responsibility to workers personally trained by our staff here. However, they were dismissed about three months ago. New workers took over since then," Alexander explained, opening a folder and drawing attention. "As you can see, machines produced in the last three months show the highest level of corruption from this substance."
Curious, Lincoln took the folder and analyzed it.
"And what do you call this substance?" the Titan asked.
"Nonexistence," Zivot replied. "Anti-magic… anti-life. That's what the press calls it. But we have another name: nether."
"Nether?" Luanne showed interest, crossing her arms as Alexander opened a notebook and used it to explain.
"Ether is the natural evolution of mana. When many mana particles merge and overload their polarities, they condense into a single ether particle. It's about ten times denser and more charged than mana… But errors can occur. Values overlap and invert—positive becomes negative, negative becomes neutral, and neutral becomes positive. That's how nether is formed: a completely unstable and irregular energy, dangerous even to ecosystems."
"I've heard of this back when I studied in the Great Orders," Ethan said. Seeing Lincoln and Luanne's curiosity, he frowned. "What? I only heard about it. The information was scarce. Even following the scientific community closely, I noticed you stopped updating the research… why?"
"No…" Christopher shook his head. "We didn't stop. As you said, everything we know about this energy is scarce. It's rare to find natural sources of it, and even harder to produce it artificially. Usually, we find an Arcane Crystal of this energy—and it decays within hours."
"Then how would someone apply it to a machine's core? Wouldn't it dissipate shortly after?" Lincoln asked.
"No, sir. The new workers likely introduced nether through the tubes, contaminating the core. The isolation allowed gradual corruption, since nether dissipates naturally in open environments."
"But there are reports of machines built last year also exploding—not just recent ones. Could this be a chain reaction?"
"Exactly, sir. The nether caused the cores to explode, then fragmented into the atmosphere. Since it was heavily charged with corrupted mana particles, it spread contamination to other weakened machines."
"I see…" Lincoln relaxed slightly, lowering his guard.
Hope filled the office for a moment.
But Luanne soon raised a concern.
"You claim the cores were corrupted, but also say there are no lasting natural sources of nether, nor a way to replicate it artificially. So how did they obtain so much of it?"
"Not necessarily a large amount, Priestess," Alexander replied. "Nether is still ether, even if unstable. A single particle can corrupt thousands of mana particles."
He paused, lost in thought.
"They may have come from a place we almost ignore every day…"
"Where?" Lincoln asked.
Nervous, snapping his fingers and biting his lip, Alexander pointed to the right.
Following his gesture, the three judges turned to two maps pinned to the board.
One was the Forest of Nymphs.
The other…
"The Forgotten Continent of Nalleth Zala?" Ethan murmured.
That name alone made even Lincoln shiver.
An image surfaced in his mind: an island beyond the ocean waves, more hostile than the Forest of Nymphs. A place consumed by endless darkness, where only the stars could be seen.
Like a living creature growling at approaching ships.
"Never say that name again, boy," Lincoln muttered, stepping closer. "Do you think they're among us? The people of oblivion?"
"Possibly… or perhaps there is a society beyond the Nymphs' mist. They might be capable of manipulating this energy…" Christopher began—
But Alexander suddenly cleared his throat loudly, drawing everyone's attention.
He sat down tensely.
His mind was clouded by a conclusion he wished was wrong—but it was evidence.
His leg trembled as he forced himself to speak.
"W-we fear that, just as there are creatures made of mana and ether, there may also be creatures made entirely of nether. Distorted monsters driven by destruction… They may also act as parasites, corrupting the nervous system of living beings and amplifying irrationality to the extreme."
He swallowed, his stomach churning.
"However," Christopher added, glancing at Luanne, "the name given to this hypothetical species is… controversial. For both theistic and atheistic researchers…"
The Priestess stiffened, her expression uneasy. She did not want to hear it.
"And what is that name?" Ethan pressed.
But the moment it was spoken, silence would have been preferable.
"They are called…" Christopher hesitated, licking his lips before finally saying, "Demons."