Terro, the sixth temporary morgue of the parish.
“Fifty more samples successfully synchronized today.” Myris walked past a row of operating tables lined with corpses, flipping through his notes as he muttered to himself, “Several samples are already close to the passing grade for soul synchronization…”
The sound of water beneath his feet brought Myris back to his senses. He looked down at the pool of blood on the ground, the blood reflecting the old man's decaying and withered face, which made him freeze in place for a moment.
Myris raised his right arm, looked at the fleshless bones that emitted a faint glow in the firelight, and sighed deeply.
"What am I, anyway? A living corpse? A dead man?"
A hint of regret flickered in Myris's dry eye sockets, but it was quickly filled with dark thoughts.
"God has already abandoned me, so why should I be attached to the future?"
The old man's withered feet trod across the pool of blood, leaving a trail of crimson footprints in the passageway, stretching into the endless darkness.
The sixth temporary morgue in the parish was originally the mansion of a prominent nobleman. The owner of the mansion was reported for involvement in Protestant worship, and the entire family, from the patriarch who was over seventy years old to infants still in swaddling clothes, a total of more than 190 people, were all arrested by the Inquisition.
These people never came out of the courthouse prison.
Of course, all the property of this noble family was incorporated into the church's treasury, and the luxurious mansion was requisitioned as a temporary morgue for the parish.
Following the stairs down into the basement, the mansion's basement, originally a space for nobles to store wine and food, is now filled with all sorts of huge experimental equipment and strange devices.
Mylis took the notebook and went into the basement, where he saw a dozen gray-white corpses standing in the center of the room, with all sorts of tubes inserted into their bodies.
Wearing a wide robe and resembling a mummified corpse, the throat bone sat in a luxurious armchair, holding a glass of red wine, and said contentedly, "The greatest use that money and power bring to mankind is that they teach them how to amplify their desires."
As the red wine entered his mouth, the liquid flowed down his parched esophagus and into his riddled chest, spilling out onto the ground, causing him to burst into laughter.
While recording the physical signs of each test subject, Mylis said to the throat bone, "We no longer need food, so stop doing these pointless things."
Throat Bone slowly put down his wine glass: "Old man, this is one of the few pastimes I can still reminisce about."
“The experimental results over the past few days have gradually stabilized.” Myris noted the status of the pipelines and equipment, nodded, and said, “We can start connecting them now.”
After a moment of silence, the throat bone suddenly asked Myris, "How long have we known each other?"
Somewhat surprised by the question, Myris looked up and momentarily forgot to answer.
"Seventeen years and one hundred and thirty-five days."
The words from the throat bone made Myris's eyes widen.
Ignoring the astonished look on the old man's face, the throat bone continued, "Seventeen years ago, Theodore brought me out of prison and took me to the San Sidlow Monastery. He found you in the Interspecies Mutual Aid Society, hoping that I could live under your protection... But you refused."
Myris closed his eyes and said heavily, “At that time, all your family members were persecuted to death by the Inquisition. The pain of losing loved ones and the hatred for the Church had completely warped your mind. I can only see revenge and destruction in your eyes, so I cannot risk taking you in. It would threaten the other heretics hiding in the monastery.”
The man with the throat bone said calmly, "I know, and I understand what you did back then, but when I'm alone, I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had stayed at the monastery."
Myris said softly, "Perhaps, perhaps you will gradually calm your anger in the daily pilgrimage and live an ordinary life like this."
The man with the throat bone grinned and said, "Ordinary? When did you learn to be humble? Under your tutelage, didn't a saintly king emerge from the monastery? He changed the fate of the alien race, and even changed the world."
A complex expression unconsciously appeared on Myris's face, a mixture of emotion, pride, nostalgia, guilt, and... pain.
“He is different. Even without me, he will still reach the top and look down on the world.”
He gently rubbed his Adam's apple against the armrest of the chair, softly repeating the name he knew all too well: "Todd Fischer, Todd Fischer..."
Turning his gaze to the two enormous culture tanks in the center of the room, Myris walked to the first tank, lifted the curtain covering it, and looked at the black tar-like substance inside. He said to the throat bone, "These are our last remaining tyrants. The Elders have discovered that we are stealing their sacred artifacts, and it seems that obtaining such things again will become impossible."
Throat Bone stood up from his seat, looked at the tyrant inside the jar, and said in a low voice, "That's enough."
Mylis then walked to the second culture tank and lifted the curtain.
It was filled with a large number of transparent, constantly wriggling parasites.
The man with the throat bone slowly walked to the pile of insects and said softly in a tone of admiring a work of art, "The Soul-Returning Insects are the highest achievement of the Elders' Soul Experiments and the guiding light for humanity to enter the realm of the soul."
"With the help of Theodore's notes and countless experiments, I have found the best formula to combine the Resurrection Worm and the Tyrant."
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