"Oh hey Aizzy!" Eldwyn called, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Yeah?"
"A while ago, when I went out, I saw a paper about some new Ministers in Lumin. One of them looked familiar—Hordon Xen Chronos."
Aizzy paused for a moment, processing the information. "Chronos? Hm. Could be a coincidence, but still..." She shook her head, "We'll look into it later. But at the moment let's focus on Ulneria."
Eldwyn exhaled, rubbing his chin. "Yeah, I guess... I just wanted you to know."
His gaze shifted to the bustling streets beyond the window. " I wonder what those nobles are scheming under these bright skies." His voice carried a hint of disdain.
In the lavish quarters of a noble—Calin Zarial—an obese, blonde, and pale-skinned male, seated in a stuffed chair, his fingers tapping impatiently against the armrest. Before him stood twelve cloaked figures, their presence shadowed by failure.
"So you can't even carry out such a simple task?" Zarial spat, his voice laced with fury.
One of the cloaked men hesitated, then stepped forward cautiously. "Sir ple—"
"Will you shut up!" Zarial snapped, his face twisting with rage. "How dare a lowly sword-for-hire speak while I do? You fail your mission and still dare to open your mouth? Know your place. Only speak when spoken to."
His piercing gaze swept over the group before he leaned forward. "Now... tell me, what was the reason for your utter failure?"
A different cloaked man took a breath before responding. "Well you see... a few hours before we were set to act, three unknown individuals interrupted us."
Zarial's expression darkened. "That's it? You failed because of that?"
The man swallowed hard. "Sire, I beg to differ. These individuals weren't average nuisances... they were strong. One of the—a woman—used portal magic."
Zarial's interest piqued, he drummed his fingers on the armrest, considering the implications. "Portal magic, you say...? And where are these individuals you speak of?"
"Yes, sire. Hypothetically, they should be in Ulneria. More specifically—Cryotown."
"You may leave. I'll get back to you lot later."
With that, the cloaked men exited Zarial's quarters, their footsteps fading into the dimly lit backyard. Once out of sight, murmurs spread among them.
"Why are we putting up with him?" one of them muttered. "He wasn't the one who gave us this job to begin with. He's just a substitute."
Their leader, Romelo, exhaled sharply, before turning to face them. "Listen up guys, let's play our part as sheeps for now—until we're able to take on the wolf."
His words silenced the mumbling, though few of them exchanged glances. With resignation, they made their way to a tavern to have a couple drinks to drown their frustrations.
As the cloaked men disappeared beneath the late afternoon sun, Queen Morrie moved with purpose. She strode briskly through the well-lit halway leading to the royal library. With a special key—only a select few possessed—she unlocked the lightweight, ornamented door and slipped inside, shutting it behind her.
She rushed to a shelf two meters away from the entrance on the left. Reaching for a specific blue book—positioned two spaces away from the edge—she pulled it. With a soft and faint mechanical whir, the shelf split apart, revealing a hidden passage. Without hesitation, she descended the circular stairs, her heels clacking and clacking against the stone with every step she took.
Emerging from the barely bright passage, she entered a secluded chamber lined with cages. Within them, rare creatures stirred—humanoid birds, a Pegasus, a smoldering Phoenix, a Sirene, and even a young werewolf...—all confined in silent captivity.
The chamber was well-lit by the radiance of crystals and glowing creatures, yet its existence remained unknown—expect to Queen Morrie and the scientists within.
"So how's the experiment going?" Queen Morrie asked, turning to a scientist whose eyes looked heavy from restless nights of work.
"Q-Queen Morrie...," he gasped, startled by her presence. "We're still working on a countermeasure. We've successfully created the toxin, but developing a way to reverse its effects in case of failure has been... difficult."
Queen Morrie's gaze sharpened. "How so?"
"Well, you see..." Volgam—the scientist—adjusted his gloves and moved toward the equipment. "We combined the homocellular compounds from a Siren with the regenerative factors of a Troll, then introduced two drops of liquified Zec stone concentrate as a catalyst. When the product was administered to the white lab rats—" he motioned toward the containment unit, "—but the subject underwent rapid, uncontrolled cellular expansion, degenerating into an amorphous tissue mass. The natural energy within the Zec stones was simply too dense—it overwhelms the biological framework, making reversion impossible."
He sighed, taking off his glasses and wiping it. "That's why we've given up on reversion. Instead we're working to refine the process to induce controlled mutations, aligning the outcome with the subject's genetic structure rather than random degeneration."
Queen Morrie, absorbing the information, slightly nodded. "So if I understand you correctly, you're making a toxin that mutates living things into something else based on their genetics?"
"Precisely." Volgam affirmed.
"I see..." Queen Morrie murmured, walking around and observing the array of distinct creatures and mutants in their cages.
As evening fell, Queen Morrie left the lab with a hint of satisfaction. She made her way back to her quarters, where King Melzar awaited, his expression unreadable.
Upon reaching her quarters, two guards positioned infront of them pushed them open.
King Melzar was already seated, waiting.
Without a word, she stepped in.
The guards shut the door behind her.