Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Saint Anselme Complex

[Script]

as written by Script

Approximately fifteen years ago

A wash of crimson light poured from the chamber, followed swiftly by screaming. It was barely muffled by the thick protective glass separating Ghyslain from the chamber's interior. Around him, the other members of his team watched in tense silence as the woman writhed on the operating table. The light pulsed, intensifying as bursts of energy ripped through her body, flooding through her throbbing veins.

The circle of power marked on the chamber's floor around her was lit up and pulsing in tandem. The woman strained against her bindings, her screams turning guttural and strangled as her body warped and contorted, fur sprouting from her skin. Her face twisted into a snout, then back again as the magic played havoc with her body.

A thrill shot down Ghyslain's spine. This one had lasted much longer than the others, perhaps...

An instant later, blood exploded from her body. Her veins tore asunder and glowing droplets splattered across the room and up against the glass screen. Several of his team gasped and flinched away, but Ghyslain merely pursed his lips.

"Composition six, subject seventeen. Test result: failure," he stated. A woman to his right hastily noted his words down. "Prepare the chamber for subject eighteen."

A chorus of affirmation followed as the room burst into activity. Ghyslain sighed, turning away from the glass as a cleanup crew moved into the room to dispose of the body and sterilise the surfaces. They were only three tests away from what was deemed an acceptable limit for composition failures. Twenty tests. A pitiably small sample size to work with, but they did not have a limitless supply of bodies. It was highly rare that they had two subjects in the facility at a time. Normally they had to wait weeks, or even months between tests. They had to make do.

He stepped from the room, collecting a clipboard of files from the desk as he walked. He flicked through its pages briefly, skimming the details of subject eighteen's physical information. He paused briefly over the age.

Nine. A child.

His grip on the folder tightened, and he hesitated in his step for the slightest of moments. Then the hesitation was gone, and he strode forwards.

The child was garoux. It had a life of darkness and violence ahead of it, victimising humanity. If it met its end here, then it would be a blessing for it. Dying in the service of humanity was perhaps enough to earn them redemption in the eyes of god.

Perhaps.

In either case, he had long since purged his doubts. The work he did here was not just necessary.

It was providence.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Script

Approximately fifteen years ago

The door swung shut behind him, and Ghyslain looked down at the child. He sat alone in the room on a lone chair, hands bound. A blindfold covered his eyes, and a sheen of sweat his skin. Their subjects were kept under the effects of heavy sedatives to ensure their ... cooperation.

"Subject eighteen," Ghyslain noted, as much to himself as to the child. "Jason. No last name."

The boy stirred, reacting to his name, and Ghyslain raised an eyebrow. Pumped full of sedatives, and still capable of registering and responding to his name? Impressive.

He glanced to the left, gazing into his own reflection in the mirror on the wall. "Increase sedation levels three points," he instructed to the figures behind the one-way screen. They couldn't afford to be taking any risks.

The boy sagged in his chair as the drugs were funnelled in. "Your mother performed admirably," Ghyslain went on, a touch of something like sadness to his words. "But ultimately failed to bond with the elixir. I hope that you will do better."

They were close. Ghyslain could feel it. This elixir's composition had seemed to be so very close to working on a number of the subjects. He sighed, turning away and starting for the door as he gestured towards the child. "Bring him."

____

The bonding chamber had been cleaned down already by the time Ghyslain returned to inspect the arrangements. The boy's mother had been removed to the disposal chamber, and her blood cleansed from the room. It was important that the ritual wasn't contaminated with unknown factors, such as the blood of another subject.

Ghyslain rubbed his thumb over his chin as he examined the circle of power, ensuring that it remained unaltered. It had been constructed into the room's floor, and so it would have been difficult for anything to damage or smudge it, but one could never be too careful. Blood magic. Alchemy. Animancy. Necromancy. There were elements of all of them in this masterpiece of divinity. He could not help but feel a pang of pride.

They stood upon the threshold of the next stage of human evolution. Immortality, and the power to annihilate their supernatural oppressors.

Providence. There was no other term for it.

Satisfied with the integrity of the circle, Ghyslain rose and nodded to the men by the door. "Bring in subject eighteen and administer the elixir."

____

He stepped into the observation chamber just as the dimly glowing red elixir was poured down the child's throat. The boy almost choked on it, but careful coaxing by the hands of the researchers ensured that all of it was consumed. Once their task was complete, they hastily left the room, shutting the door behind them.

The boy looked almost peaceful, lying there on the table. The sedatives would begin to wear off soon, he had little doubt. The speed at which he metabolised them... Ghyslain smiled. He had a good feeling about this subject.

The doctor raised his hand, and took a deep breath. He channelled.

The circle burst into life, crimson light pouring from its lines and patterns. The light washed over the boy, and in his midriff, a responding glow flared. It pulsed once. Then the boy screamed. As before, the light flooded from its origin point into his veins, turning his body into a beacon. He shrieked and wailed, struggling for freedom, but finding none.

His screams were interspersed with sobs, and Ghyslain spied one of the other researchers quivering to one side, eyes averted. The others' faces were stony, grim. Only he was smiling. They would see in time, though. Although the child's pain was a grisly sight, what might be born of it... it made it all worthwhile.

The boy was still alive. He'd lasted longer than his mother, now. But would he survive to the conclusion of the bonding process? Ghyslain couldn't guess. He didn't know how long it would take. And so the screams wore on as the boy's body attempted to shift, fighting against the elixir's power.

Then as quickly as it had begun, it ceased.

The light of the circle dimmed, and that in the boy's veins faded. Ghyslain's breath caught. Could it be? Had they finally...

The boy's eyes opened. And they burned with crimson fire.

He tore free of his restraints as effortlessly as though they were paper, and launched himself at the screen. The researchers flinched back as he impacted it, slamming against the magically reinforced glass with a resounding thud. Ghyslain frowned. "Do not be concerned, the magic will prevent him from-"

The child's arm sprouted fur and claws, and he drove it into the glass.

It cracked.

All semblance of order evaporated, and the others in the room rushed for the door. Ghyslain paled, stepping back from the screen and reaching for the alarm. As he pulled it, a siren began to wail throughout the lower levels of the facility. He reached for the communicator as the boy swung his claw again. His entire body had shifted to his wolfen shape, and the second blow spread the cracks in the glass further.

"This is Doctor Martel," he said, keeping his voice measured. "Subject eighteen has successfully bonded with the elixir, but has escaped his restraints. The bonding chamber will not contain him. Initiate lockdown procedures immediately."

He didn't wait for confirmation, stepping away and bending down. He produced a stub of chalk from his pocket, and began to mark a circle on the floor.

The boy's claw fell again. This time, it was something beyond a wolf's claw. It was misshapen, twisted with a half-formed face growing from it. Ghyslain shuddered, forcing himself to continue marking. The werewolf's entire body was changing, a mess of fur and twisted half-features bulging out of his flesh.

He completed the circle just as the claw fell a final time and the glass shattered. The abomination that had once been subject eighteen dropped with a heavy thud to the floor of the observation chamber. Glass shards were embedded in its claw, but as Ghyslain watched, they dropped to the floor and the cuts sealed up with a briefly intense flash of crimson.

It was lucky that the creature took a moment to reorient itself upon landing in the room. Ghyslain took a breath, and channelled.

The room, and the creature vanished from his sight, replaced by the interior of his office on the first level of the complex. He released the breath, and for a long moment he stood there, the sight of the twisted creature that the boy had become burned into his vision.

And in that moment, Ghyslain Martel smiled.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Script

Approximately fifteen years ago

Dr Ghyslain reclined in his desk chair, his fingers steepled. Opposite him, the High Inquisitor sat scowling at the damage report. He lifted a hand to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow.

"Seven dead, and more than a dozen injured," Katherine stated, "And the asset escaped containment. I hope you understand what this means."

Ghyslain nodded.

"Research will have to be suspended until the inevitable inquiry has been carried out. All evidence of the experiments needs to be cleared away, all files stored away from prying eyes," she went on, "This setback will cost us years. Have we an explanation for the casualties?"

Ghyslain nodded again. "A staff member was turned garoux without our knowledge, and claimed by madness whilst working in the facility."

"I assume that the garoux in question can be produced if required?"

"Of course. Edmond Harman, one of the injured. No close family to speak of. Victim of an unfortunate werewolf attack that went unreported. He took holiday leave during the period of transformation, then later returned to work. Lunentia, undoubtedly." Ghyslain smiled, then paused. "How go efforts to retrieve eighteen?"

Katherine grimaced. "Poorly. On the occasions my men have been able to corner it, they've barely escaped with their lives. It's almost reached the Lutetia City limits."

A thrill shot through Ghyslain's body, and his smile widened. "It's more potent than I could have hoped..." he breathed.

"But still a failure," Katherine noted with a scowl. "Whatever secondary effect this composition has had upon the creature during its shift must be eliminated before we can move onto human trials." She sighed impatiently, "I need to check in with the retrieval teams. Ensure that you get the labs in an acceptable state for an inquiry before news of this reaches the rest of the Church. And pray that eighteen doesn't bring this entire operation down on our heads."

Ghyslain smiled. "Of course, High Inquisitor."

As Katherine swept from the room, Ghyslain drummed his fingers on his desk. A setback, yes. But it meant they were close. So tantalisingly close. Eighteen had been a disaster, but it was also their greatest success. He couldn't help but feel proud of what it had accomplished.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Script

Present Day

Ghyslain stood on the catwalk overlooking the extraction chamber with a small smile upon his face. The sound of machinery and flowing liquid filled the room, as grim-faced scientists moved around between the cattle, setting the extraction into motion. They lay still upon the tables as crimson began to flow from their bodies, making no protest.

"As you can see, the process has been refined a great deal since your last visit."

Ghyslain's face twisted into a grimace as the sickeningly smooth voice of Alexandre Séverin cut across the symphony of his machines. The sound of his and the High Inquisitor's footfalls resonated through his body with every step they took towards him on the catwalk.

"I'm impressed. How are they kept pacified? I don't see any sedatives." Katherine leaned onto the railing overlooking the extraction chamber's floor. Below, the streams of crimson were flowing through the tubes towards a central deposit where they mingled together in a large vat.

"A little redirection of our specialist staff's efforts. Their minds are wholly elsewhere. The sedatives were contaminating the extract too much, leading to reduced potency, so I found a workaround."

Ghyslain finally turned to face the pair, forcing a smile. Of course Alexandre claimed credit for that decision. It had been Ghyslain who determined that the sedatives were adversely affecting the product, prompting the blasted Inquisitor to take the obvious next step. But he would not argue the point. He cared not for being accredited for such minor things. He was making history - his work, his research would lead to the dawn of a new age for humanity.

This ... boy was merely a hanger-on. A minder, assigned by Lessard after the failure fifteen years ago with subject eighteen. Ghyslain had plenty of plans for him, and none of them were pleasant. For now, though, a mask of civility had to be maintained.

"These extracts will be being used for the final refining process.” He said. “The finished elixir. The same process has already been tested on some subjects, and..." Ghyslain hesitated. Not all of the results had been pretty.

"And?" Katherine prompted, frowning.

"As of yet, the process remains... risky. We believe the risk factor tied both to the subject's physical constitution, and their state of mind. The former leading to death during the bonding process, and the latter to ... instability. Madness." Ghyslain shook his head. "However, those subjects that successfully bonded... the results are everything that we hoped for."

"Show me." Katherine's expression remained a mask, but Ghyslain had little doubt that she was holding her metaphorical breath. She was as invested in this endeavour as he, if ... less closely. Whilst she did not understand the true beauty of what they were creating, he had her to thank for enabling it. For providing a steady stream of both test subjects and cattle over the years.

Nodding his head, he turned to lead her - and blasted Séverin - towards the containment cells.

____

Subject twenty-nine stood passively in the center of the testing chamber. It was a tall and muscular male, its head shaved and its features squarish. It stared blankly at the one-way mirror behind which Ghyslain stood with Katherine and Alexandre, its eyes burning with crimson light. Ghyslain ran his thumb lovingly over the glowing red control stone in his hand. After the chaos that eighteen had caused, he had immediately directed research into an effective failsafe method of control over the subjects. Though subjects nineteen through twenty-three had proved to be failures, on twenty-four he had perfected that failsafe. It was a shame that it had decomposed after two weeks. It had shown promise.

He leaned down to the intercom and flicked the switch. "Commence demonstration."

One of the chamber's side-doors open and a broad-shouldered man wheeled a trolley into the room, full of various weapons and other tools. He was Albert - one of the security staff - a giant of a man who made even the muscular twenty-nine appear scrawny.

"The elixir's potency in increasing physical resistance is significantly more potent than previous models," Ghyslain began, gesturing as Albert took a dagger from the trolley and stepped across to twenty-nine. With a careless slash, he drew the blade across twenty-nine's chest with evident force. A cut that would have rent the chest of a normal man, instead the blade barely left a thin red trail in its wake where it just about pierced the skin.

A moment later, the wound had gone, swallowed in a brief flash of red that left the skin unmarred in its wake.

"As you can see, the healing properties are also functional. However, their potency is everything we'd hoped for. Albert, if you will."

Albert stepped away to the trolley, setting the dagger down and taking a large cutting-saw from it. With a roar of its motor, the security guard stepped towards twenty-nine and - without hesitation - drove the blade into its arm. A good ten seconds of forceful sawing later, the limb dropped to the ground, severed in a spray of gore.

"Now, observe." Ghyslain smiled, as red-tinted smoke poured from the dripping wound, that was already emitting a bright red glow. The arm on the floor was also smoking. As the seconds ticked by, twenty-nine's arm began to regenerate - in full. At the same time, the arm on the floor disintegrated into ash. Ghyslain turned to Katherine, beaming. "Is it not beautiful?"

"There's no denying its potency," she remarked. A smile had breached the stony mask of her face, a sure sign that she was pleased.

"I believe that we are ready, High Inquisitor. So long as our volunteers understand the risk..."

Katherine raised a hand. "Do you have confirmation that the final failsafe is functional?"

Ghyslain grimaced. "Yes. The subjects who lost their minds were successfully terminated without issue." Though it had pained him to do so. They could still have offered valuable insights... it was such a waste. All for one blunder. Their safety measures were more thorough now, such drastic actions weren't necessary. But with Alexandre looking over his shoulder, he'd had no choice.

It was some time later before they finished the demonstration. Twenty-nine was subject to gunfire, blunt-force-trauma and more to demonstrate its resilience. Its strength was put to the test against metal bars, armour and weights. Its speed and reflexes had it catching crossbow bolts from the air.

In all categories, it excelled. Ghyslain bloomed with pride.

Some time later, in his office, Katherine finally spoke the words he was longing to hear.

"I'll begin to contact the candidates we've identified. There is a war brewing, Doctor. Our soldiers must be ready for it."