The number of Cerebus Guild mbers in the chamber matched the number of patients exactly. It couldn’t be coincidence. Everything about this scene felt rehearsed, structured, like a ritual they’d perford countless tis before.
Alen’s only comfort was the one-way glass. They could see everything from their side, but the people inside couldn’t see them. If the patients had noticed anyone watching, they might have called out for help, and the guild mbers would have known imdiately that intruders were nearby.
’I have to record everything,’ Alen thought, gripping his device tighter. ’This alone will be enough evidence to destroy them. One clear video of this, and the entire network will crumble.’
As he steadied his hands, light began to bloom from each of the Cerebus Guild mbers. Thin, radiant streams ford around their bodies before extending toward the patients lying motionless on the ground.
When the light struck, the muffled groans of agony changed. They didn’t stop, they shifted. The pain in their voices began to dull, fading into quiet gasps. Their trembling slowed. And before Beatrix’s eyes, their torn flesh began to nd.
The muscle tissue re-ford, veins sealed, and new layers of skin grew over their broken bodies. It was a grotesque miracle, life returning where there should have been none.
"They’re healing them," Beatrix whispered. "Light magic..."
The truth of it sank in like a blade. The Cerebus Guild were using light magic, repairing the sa bodies that had just been burned raw by pure mana. They weren’t saving them out of rcy, they were using them.
But even as the flesh nded, the deeper wounds didn’t. Alen could see the readings on the monitors, fractured magic cores, neural damage, residual traces of addiction. These people weren’t being cured. They were being reset.
"Are they trying to find a cure for the substances they’ve been distributing?" Beatrix asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. "If they can sell both the poison and the antidote, they’d make twice as much profit."
Alen shook his head. "No," he said quietly, and there was strain in his voice, sothing raw and angry beneath it.
When the healing was finished, the Cerebus Guild mbers stepped back without a word and walked out of the room. Their gold-trimd robes shimred faintly under the mana light. As soon as they left, the researchers at the console pressed more buttons.
The white light returned, blinding, engulfing the room once more.
Monts later, the sa horror unfolded again. The patients were back to their near-death state. Their skin blistered, their bodies ravaged by the surge of mana.
And then the Cerebus Guild walked back in.
The sa sequence repeated.
Light magic flared. Healing followed. The bodies restored. Then the mana light burned them again.
Beatrix’s breath hitched as she realized what was happening. "They’re... they’re doing it on purpose. Over and over. They’re torturing them, just to heal them again."
Her fists trembled, the urge to break through the glass nearly overwhelming.
"This isn’t research," Alen said. His tone was tight, every word controlled. "There’s no lab equipnt here. No data being collected. The real experints are done on the upper floors."
He swallowed hard and looked back toward the glass, forcing himself to keep filming. "What they’re doing here is sothing else entirely."
Beatrix turned to him, confused. "Then what?"
"They’re using them," Alen said. "These people, the ones they deem useless, are being sacrificed for the guild’s gain. To increase their own affinity."
Beatrix frowned. "Affinity?"
"Dark magic was banned across Alterian long ago," Alen explained. "Rumors said the reason was because those who practiced it could only grow stronger by taking life. The more death they caused, the deeper their magic beca. It made them unstable, too dangerous to exist."
Beatrix’s eyes widened as the realization hit her.
"For light magic," Alen continued, "the thod is different. Its affinity grows through healing. The more one heals, the stronger their magic becos. On the surface, it looks pure, righteous even. But what happens when healing alone isn’t enough?"
He pointed through the glass.
"When ordinary healing no longer strengthens them, they create pain. They destroy life just so they can restore it again, and again, until their light grows stronger than anyone else’s. They call it faith. But what we’re seeing now... this is the darkness of light."
Beatrix stared in stunned silence. The idea that the revered Light Mages of the Cerebus Guild could do sothing so monstrous, it twisted her stomach.
The process continued. Over and over.
The sa five guild mbers would enter, heal the half-dead patients, leave the room, and then let the pure mana burn them alive again.
By the sixth ti, Beatrix could barely watch. Her nails dug into her palms hard enough to draw blood.
One of the patients, barely conscious, managed to move their mouth when the healing light touched them again. Their words were hoarse but filled with terror.
"Please... stop... not again... please..."
Then ca the screams.
They knew what was coming next.
The pain. The light. The endless cycle.
They didn’t want to live through it anymore. Death would have been rcy.
Beatrix turned her head away, tears threatening to form. "This isn’t just cruel... it’s evil."
Alen nodded grimly. "They’ve turned suffering into a tool. Every second of pain those people feel, every scream they make, becos strength for the Cerebus Guild."
The hum of the machinery deepened, the rhythm almost chanical now, as though the entire room had settled into routine.
Six cycles. Six rounds of agony and restoration.
Each ti, the light burned brighter. Each ti, the healers looked calr, more practiced, more detached.
And then, during the seventh round, one of the researchers frowned at his monitor. "One of the patients has flatlined," he announced.
"Record it," another said flatly. "We’ll bring in another one."
Beatrix froze.
Another one.
How many had there been before? Hundreds? Thousands?
She looked at Alen. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked painful, the fury behind his eyes almost radiating from him.
They had all the proof they needed.
****
*****
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