The spiral staircase stretched endlessly upward—or at least, that’s how it seemed from below. The worn stone steps felt ancient, smooth from the passage of countless feet over time. I climbed, step by step, gripping the baby in my arms. Its warmth pressed against my chest, but its silence was unnerving. It hadn’t cried since I picked it up. Almost as if it could sense something was terribly wrong.
I reached the top, where a pedestal awaited. It stood in the chamber’s center like a twisted altar, a cradle placed carefully at its peak. There was no instruction given, yet the meaning was clear.
I hesitated.
My mind raced with questions. ''What would happen once I placed the baby down? What was the purpose of all this? Why go to such lengths?''
Still, I did exactly what was expected. I gently placed the baby into the cradle.
The pedestal moved.
A deep mechanical rumble filled the chamber as it began to ascend, lifting the cradle higher and higher. I watched in silent horror as it stopped just inches from the ceiling.
Then—a pulse of energy.
A surge of cosmic force rippled through the air, flowing down toward the baby like a divine blessing. It was a strange and unnatural sight—raw energy being forced into a child who had barely taken its first breath.
And in that moment, everything clicked.
The entire ritual. The talk of the next generation. The obsession with battle-hardened warriors.
They weren’t just raising children.
They were trying to mass-produce cosmic users.
I sucked in a breath, my heartbeat quickening.
So that was why there had been portals fluctuating. That was why cosmic energy readings had been off the charts in this sector.
The entire time, I had been looking at the symptoms, not the cause.
These people—whoever they were—had been deliberately exposing newborns to cosmic energy, nourishing them from birth.
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But—this wouldn’t work.
It wasn’t a matter of chance. It was a scientific certainty.
Cosmic energy was both a miracle and a curse. The human body, past a certain threshold, rejects it outright. If someone tried to absorb too much, they either died or mutated into something monstrous.
This wasn’t training. This was mass murder.
And what made it even worse?
The government knew.
They weren’t ignorant of this. They had simply chosen to ignore it.
Humanity needed more cosmic warriors. And in their desperation, they had allowed this to happen.
They would continue to turn a blind eye—as long as this experiment remained contained. As long as it didn’t become a threat to the upper levels.
And that was why Larrisa sent us.
She already knew the truth. She had sent us here to test us. To see what we would do.
Would we choose morality, refusing to sacrifice children even at the cost of humanity’s survival?
Or would we be pragmatic, accepting that war demands sacrifices?
I clenched my jaw.
I couldn''t even blame them entirely.
The Planetary-rank fighters? Only five remained. The Planetoids? They were scarce. Humanity was on the brink of extinction, desperately clawing for survival.
So in that sense, I understood why they allowed this.
But that didn’t make it right.
To save humanity, we can’t lose the very essence of what makes us human.
Perhaps this was why Azrael had said, “If you have no worth, you will be discarded.”
Had he known?
No—not the full extent.
But now that I knew, there was no turning back.
I had to stop this.
I had to end this.
But before I could move—
The floor disappeared.
……
I fell.
The tunnel swallowed me. Stone walls rushed past, and I barely had time to brace myself before impact. The force of my descent ruptured the ground, sending debris flying.
I landed—not on the floor, but on corpses.
A junkyard of bodies.
Not just humans. Mutated creatures. Twisted, grotesque failures of whatever sick experiment these people had been running.
I stood slowly, forcing myself to breathe through my mouth, not my nose. But even that wasn’t enough to escape the stench of death. It clung to my skin, my clothes, my very being.
This was a deep cave, filled with discarded bodies—failed subjects of their monstrous ritual.
I looked around, scanning for movement. But there was none.
Only silence.
Which meant one thing—
No one comes here.
Once someone fails, they are simply thrown away.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
My mind was fraying at the edges.
I wasn’t just angry—I was exhausted. The weight of what I had seen, what I had learned, was pressing down on me, trying to break me.
But I forced myself forward.
Keep moving.
Somewhere in the distance, I could hear it.
A faint, steady sound.
Running water.
An exit.
I pushed forward, stepping over bodies. I didn’t allow myself to look closely at them, because if I did, I knew I would break.
Instead, I focused.
When I reached the cave wall, I pressed my hand against the stone. The sound of rushing water was louder here.
There was an opening nearby.
Without hesitation, I gathered cosmic energy into my leg and kicked.
The wall shattered.
Behind it—a waterway. An underground river. A way out.
But I hesitated.
What if the water was contaminated?
What if they had poisoned it, too?
No.
I had no other choice.
Using Junia’s tech, I switched into swimming gear. The fabric clung to my body, adjusting to the cold temperature of the cave.
Then—
I dove in.
.…..
The water was cold.
The current was strong, fast, pulling me forward with relentless force. But I let it carry me, my body relaxing against the rush.
For the first time in hours, I allowed myself a moment of rest.
My body was exhausted. My mind was a mess of rage, horror, and fear. But for now—
I let the water take me.
Wherever I surfaced next—
I would be ready.