"Umm… does the machine break, Mr. Evan?" Elias finally spoke, though his voice was low and tinged with genuine curiosity. His eyes were fixed on the triple question marks flashing across the display.
Evan didn't look away from the screen. "No. This model is serviced regularly and powered by a Calamity-rank monster core. Even a Myth-rank's mana can't usually destabilize it." He stepped forward, resting his hand against the scanner's alloy frame. "If this reading is wrong, it's not because the machine failed. Something in him is interfering."
Veyra drifted closer to Ren, the trailing haze of her shadow curling over the floor like restless smoke. "Abomination Doctor…," she repeated, tasting the words. "It sounds powerful but also revolting."
"Veyra." Master Lu's voice came sharp, like a command echoing in a training hall. "Do not insult him."
Ren gave a small shrug. "I've been called worse. Usually by my System."
Evan straightened. "We'll swap the unit and try again. If the anomaly repeats, we'll have our answer."
"That is a reasonable approach," Master Lu said, nodding in approval.
Bureau technicians moved with practiced precision, disengaging the first scanner from its mounts and wheeling in a replacement of identical design. Heavy cables were plugged in, status lights flickering through red, yellow, and finally settling on green. The screen cycled through its diagnostics before going still, awaiting input.
Ren stepped forward and placed his palm on the new plate. The cold alloy seemed to bite into his skin as the machine hummed to life.
"Reading complete," the mechanical voice announced.
The results flashed.
Status: Ren Hector
Class: Abomination Doctor (???)
Domain: Absolute Horror (???)
Title(s):
Embodiment of Horror
Surgeon of the Abyss
Core Stats:
Strength: ???
Defense: ???
Dexterity: ???
Mana: ???
Stamina: ???
Luck: ???
Potential: ???
Resistances:
???
???
???
???
???
Core Abilities (Ranks Only):
A-Rank
A-Rank
S-Rank
S-Rank
S-Rank
Veyra arched her brow. "Still disgusting," she said, though there was an amused tilt to her lips.
"The skill list shown on the screen is… absurd," Elias said, half to himself.
"So many A and S classifications. If the wave intensity scales as expected, the emission should exceed normal S‑Rank. Possibly brush Myth."
Evan exhaled. "Fine. We'll move on to the skill check phase. His listed skill ranks are already extreme. The best way to confirm is through direct output."
Armand's mouth twisted in open disdain. "If the machine can't read him, then all we're measuring is theater. Wave output means nothing without numbers."
"We'll find out," Evan replied evenly.
Technicians rolled a reinforced pedestal into the open space at the center of the hall. Resting on it was a massive crystal sphere the size of a war drum, encased in alloy rings etched with dense glyphwork. Inside the crystal, faint motes of light drifted in lazy spirals, each pulse matching the mana of the room.
"Mr. Hector," Evan said, gesturing toward it. "Use your most powerful skill. The crystal will record the output."
The Myth-rank hunters shifted to the far wall, giving him space.
Ren eyed the sphere. Alright. No tentacles not unless I want to ruin Bureau property. He inhaled deeply. "Fear of the Unknown."
The Domain uncoiled.
The temperature seemed to drop, but it wasn't the kind that raised gooseflesh, it was the deep, marrow-sinking chill of being buried under the weight of something infinite. The air thickened, every breath dragging through invisible resistance. The titanium walls didn't just groan they seemed to contract, like the structure itself was aware of the presence inside it.
The staff around the room were the first to feel it. One technician's knees buckled immediately, and he crumpled, clawing at his throat. Another stumbled back against the wall, hands pressed to his temples before warm blood poured from his nostrils in thick streams. A young analyst gasped once, eyes going wide, then the blood vessels in both eyes burst, spilling dark red tears down his cheeks.
The sounds began to build: wet coughing, choking sobs, the dull crack of someone's teeth breaking as their jaw locked during a seizure. One man collapsed mid-scream, hitting the floor so hard his head bounced against the reinforced panels. His arms jerked once, twice, then went still.
The crystal began to hum a deep, resonant tone like the groan of the ocean in a storm. The glyphs on its alloy cage lit in rapid succession, cycling so quickly they blurred, then breaking into shapes not meant for human comprehension.
Then came the interruption.
"Enough," Armand barked.
Metal screamed to Ren's right. Something like a greatsword met something like a mountain. The impact detonated through the hall, a concussive BOOM that slapped the air and set the crystal to a higher, panicked pitch. Sparks chased across the floor and guttered.
It never reached its target.
Master Lu was there in an instant, two fingers catching the blade mid-swing. The sound of steel on bone rang through the hall, though Lu's stance didn't shift by so much as a breath.
"Stop this nonsense, Armand," Lu said, his voice carrying the weight of authority.
Armand's eyes blazed gold. "Move, Lu Changcheng. This is not pressure any human should possess."
"You will cross my dead body first before you touch my brother," Lu replied without raising his voice. The words were steel.
Before Ren could even open his mouth, the Body of Pure Horror stirred not a whisper this time, but a command. Something was approaching. Multiple somethings. And every instinct told him they were of the same genre of horror as himself.
He didn't choose to respond. His body did it for him.
Four black tentacles exploded from his back with a wet, precise snap, unfurling like the skeletal remains of something that had learned how to hunt in the dark. Ten more erupted from where his head should have been, fanning outward in perfect symmetry.
Surgical tools appeared along them instantly Outer God scalpels that gleamed with edges too thin for mortal sight, clamps that could close on vein, sinew, or void, and needles that threaded themselves through the air as though sewing flesh that wasn't there.
A flicker in his peripheral vision shadows boiling from the left. Veyra. At the same time, organic metal gleamed to his right, Elias's work whipping forward in a dozen barbed strands.
Ren's tentacles moved with surgical certainty, weaving into a dense, interlocking wall. The incoming strikes hit at the same instant.
The collision was apocalyptic.
The shockwave punched through the room, a wall of force that shattered light fixtures overhead. The crystal sphere on the pedestal screamed in resonance, its motes scattering wildly before the entire thing detonated.
Shards of molten crystal and scorched alloy burst outward, slicing through the air in a glittering storm. The heat that followed was sharp enough to scorch hair and leave the metallic tang of blood in the mouth. Technicians too slow to shield themselves caught shards across their arms and faces, their cries swallowed by the ringing in everyone's ears.
When the haze began to settle, Ren was still rooted where he had been, tentacles locked in place against both Myth-rank assaults.
Elias and Veyra had attacked him.