The laboratory was a wide, sterile chamber dedicated to the study of human DNA and its interaction with magic.
Its polished gray floor reflected the glow of countless workstations, where scientists in white coats moved briskly, shifting from table to table.
The air was alive with the hum of machinery—soft beeps, the clatter of keys, and the low murmur of voices blending into a steady rhythm of industry.
Toward the back of the room stood two figures. One was a tall, lean man of fair complexion. His medium-length brown hair fell in neat, layered waves, framing calm brown eyes that betrayed nothing.
An unreadable smile rested on his face, making it impossible to discern his thoughts.
James regarded the clipboard in his hand with the same faint smile, scanning the details with careful precision.
---
Subject ID: S-000
Name: Zwei
Race: Human
Height: 167 cm (5'6")
Blood Type: A
Age: 20
Background Report:
Two days prior, one of our researchers approached the subject, a young man identified as Zwei. He was offered a substantial sum of money under the pretense of a routine medical study. Driven by greed, he agreed without hesitation.
His eagerness and lack of suspicion indicate a pliable nature, though it also betrays a deep-seated avarice—perhaps a trait that can be molded to our purposes.
Initial evaluations confirm he is in good health and compliant. Further experimentation will determine his suitability for Project Requiem.
---
James lifted his eyes from the clipboard to study Zwei himself.
The young man stood with an average build, his most striking feature being the unruly dark red hair that framed his face. A thin scar cut across the skin just above his right eye, lending him a hardened air despite his otherwise unremarkable appearance.
Beside him stood another subject. Taller and far more imposing, this one had a muscular frame and carried himself with an arrogance that filled the room. His dark blond hair was shaped into a messy quiff, his sharp yellow eyes glinting with self-assurance against tanned skin.
James returned his attention to the clipboard, curious.
---
Subject ID: A-0001
Name: Drei
Race: Human
Height: 182 cm (6'0")
Blood Type: B
Age: 36
Background Report:
Three days prior, a researcher made contact with the subject known as Drei. Once a bandit, his life revolved around theft and bloodshed, marked by a history of violence and opportunism.
When promised financial reward, he accepted instantly, revealing a nature driven by greed as well as arrogance. He carries himself with the belief that he is untouchable—a dangerous delusion, though perhaps one we may turn to advantage.
Preliminary assessments confirm his formidable physical condition. Psychological stability, however, remains questionable. Trials will determine whether his volatility proves useful… or fatal.
---
'That explains his demeanor,' James thought nwardly, studying Drei with a detached interest.
"What're you staring at?" Drei snapped, his voice rough and confrontational.
James looked at him blankly, as though the words had barely registered. After a moment, his smile deepened with polite detachment.
"Merely your… impressive stature," he said smoothly.
"Hmph. Flattery won't get you anywhere," Drei shot back.
James inclined his head with a soft chuckle.
"Perhaps. Yet do not mistake my words, I speak sincerely. You both are special in your own way." His eyes shifted between the two men, his tone calm yet unsettling.
"After all… humanity deserves more than weakness."
"...." Zwei, silent until now, frowned. Something in James's phrasing carried an edge that unsettled him.
"Enough talk," James said at last, his tone sharpening ever so slightly. He rolled back his sleeve, revealing a sleek gauntlet of dark metallic alloy.
The material was almost obsidian, traced with faint silver veins that pulsed faintly with light.
The gauntlet stretched from knuckles to elbow, its wrist lined with small chain-links fused seamlessly into the metal.
James flexed his hand in a deliberate motion.
"Chain Magic—Binding Seal."
With a sudden clang, spectral chains erupted from the ground, wrapping tightly around Zwei and Drei's torsos. The links coiled with unnatural strength, embedding arrow-like tips deep into the floor.
"What the—?! W-what is this?!" Zwei shouted, struggling in panic. ''can this guy use magic?''
"Not quite," James replied evenly, his voice calm and steady. "This is no spell of mine. Merely the utility of a magic item."
"Magic… item?" Zwei repeated, confused.
"Magic Items are enchanted tools. Objects given form and power beyond the ordinary," Drei interjected. Unlike Zwei, his tone carried no fear, only confidence.
With his strength, he believed he could easily break out of these chains.
James raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Oh? I did not expect such knowledge from you."
"Tch. Of course I know. They're sold in magic shops all over. Common knowledge," Drei scoffed.
"And yet…" James's smile curled faintly. "You are here, in my chains, speaking as though knowledge grants freedom."
Zwei's eyes darted between them nervously. "Wait—hold on! I thought this was just some… some medical test! Why are we chained up?!"
James turned away, his expression calm, tone clipped yet polite. "I see no need to indulge your curiosity."
He raised his hand ever so slightly, gesturing.
A nearby researcher nodded at once and pressed a key on their console.
Directly above where Drei and Zwei, high on a wall with an intricate web of glowing wires, converged on a small glass container.
Within it floated a radiant crimson shard, pulsing gently with energy. A strange mechanical sound was heard as the glass container slowly opened.
Now fully open, the magical Lacrima slowly started to fall down where Zwei and Drei were at.
"!!!" Feeling something strange the two immediately look up, seeing the crimson red Lacrima, a strange feeling shot through their body.
"What is this…?"
"This feeling…"
If one was to put this feeling into words they would describe it as if their instincts were screaming at them to flee.
"I don't know what's going on but I ain't nobody guinea pig!" Drei shouted. He didn't know why his body was acting like this but one thing was certain.
He was a man who always trusted his instincts!
"Arghhhh!!!" With a loud masculine voice he flexed his large muscles, attempting to break through the chains.
"Argh! ARGHHHHHH!!!!" he screamed even louder! He was a bandit! He was confident using all his strength he could shatter the chains.
He continued to scream for ten seconds before….
"Haa….haa…"
Dropping to his knees he eyes widened in shock, "I don't understand, why can't I break through the chains?!"
"Your overconfidence will be your undoing." James said in a cold tone.
Drei didn't even realize what James said as his eyes widened again. Looking down he finally realized something.
They weren't just on some random spot on the floor, they were standing on a large magic circle shaped like a cross.
Unlike the rest of the bustling room, the space around the circle stood empty, as though set apart for something untouchable.
"N-no, stay back!"
Hearing a scared plea Drei turned his head and saw a scared Zwei staring at the blood red Lacrima.
It was slowly descending towards him, soon it arrived in front of him and went into his chest.
"...." a moment of silence descended in the room before…
"ARGHHHHHH!!!" A soul piercing scream was heard from the men known as Zwei.
Crack! crack!
Soon Zwei's body bended in unnatural and painful ways. It sounds like his body was being crushed and forcibly put back together.
'What is this?! It feels like my body is on fire!' Zwei thought to himself as he vomited blood from his mouth.
Carck carck!
"ARGHHH! IT HURTS! PLZ MAKE IT STOP!" Zwei begged loudly as his strange cracking sounds continued to be heard.
Soon blood could be seen coming out of his eyes, mouth and ear. As well as a strange electrical-like energy red in color.
It was the worst pain Zwei had ever felt. It was like something was forcing itself into his body while destroying him in the process.
"...." James didn't say anything as he stared at Zwei with an indifference gaze.
"the world doesn't move forward by saving lives, but by sacrificing them" he said with conviction in his tone.
It was as if he truly believed what he was saying was 100% percent right.
No… 1000% percent right!
As for the scientists? Well most of them were doing this job for greedy reasons. However some of them generally did feel bad for the men known as Zwei.
"Y-your monster…" Drei said with a shaken voice.
This only causes a wide cold smile to appear on James face. "If you think I'm a monster, then you're finally beginning to understand."
"The truth of this world!"
"ARGHHHHHH!!" Zwei screamed loudly as his eyes slowly started to take on a reddish color.
Soon, Zwei's eyes completely white out and glow red. While, at the same time multiple veins appeared on his face.
"ARGHHHH!" With a loud scream Zwei cautiousness started to fade as he found himself somewhere else.
Memory flickered inside of his mind, it was hard to tell what exactly was going on but it completely overlapped his vision.
'What is this?! These aren't my memories! Who are they!?'
"When one attempts to bond with this Lacrima, the process is nothing short of agonizing. Pain sears through the body as if every vein were set aflame." James began to explain.
"The torment is often described as one's very flesh being consumed by fire from within…"
"However!" James spoke in a dramatic tone.
" The physical agony is only half the trial. The moment the Lacrima takes hold, it floods the mind with the dying memories of all who came before."
"their hatred, regret, despair, and unfulfilled rage! All of it!"
As if responding to the man's words the electrical-like energy red in color began to grow stronger. Hitting the walls and damaging the ground slightly.
James then performs a series of dramatic gestures, "These emotions crash down in a matter of seconds, drowning the host in countless deaths."
"But do not be scared, Zwei! For I believe you can overcome this and rise up!"
"Arghhhh!!!" Throughout James' words, Zwei screamed only grew louder.
"Fragile lives are wasted on fragile wills. I am simply discarding the weak shells and reforging them into something enduring!!" James said loudly.
James doesn't just want stronger mages—he wants to reshape the world. He views humanity as weak and flawed, incapable of controlling magic responsibly.
Project Requiem is his way of creating a "new breed" of humans who can wield magic perfectly, without restraint.
He sees himself as the one guiding evolution—cold, but in his mind, righteous.
"Every scream, every drop of blood, is a line in the equation. When it is solved, the world will finally make sense!"
Project Requiem isn't just about children—it's about creating weapons. The experiments are a stepping stone to building an army.
"You must overcome this and rise up! Only then will you become an artificial mage!"
Unable to understand what the mem was saying, Zwei let out one last scream before…
Thud!
His body went limb as he collapsed onto the floor. Soon, a faint, crimson glow begins to pulse from deep within their chest. Slowly, the blood-red Lacrima rises out, as though drawn upward by an unseen force.
Seeing this scene James sighs in disappointment. "There goes another test subject…." He muttered.
For those too weak to endure, the body simply breaks.
The air shivers as it emerges, and the very blood Zwei spilled seems to stir and drift toward it. The shard pulls it in hungrily, swallowing every drop as if it were a starving beast that refuses to be denied.
Seeing this, a smile appeared on James face as he began to walk towards the blood red Lacrima.
"But it's okay, every failure teaches me more than any success ever could." He said to himself.
Using the gauntlet located in his left arm, he grabbed the Lacrima. "Let's see if you do better." James said while looking at a certain person.
"Mister Drei."
"!!!" Seeing the look in James' eyes, Drei's entire body shook in fear.
"N-no p-plz no!" He begged.
"...."James simply smiled as he walked towards Drei. The blood red Lacrima glowing in his left hand.
"Plz noooooo…"
…
Three minutes later.
The door to the laboratory creaked open. Alexander stepped inside with a casual gait, his boots clicking softly against the polished floor. A few workers glanced up, recognized him, and promptly lowered their heads back to their work.
Step. Step.
He ignored them completely, heading straight for the far side of the chamber.
When he arrived, the sight before him made his lip curl in disgust. Two corpses sprawled on the floor, drained and bloodless, their deaths disturbingly clean.
"Tch. Another batch of failures," Alexander muttered.
Beside him, James inclined his head ever so slightly. "Indeed. A regrettable outcome. Let us hope the children prove more… durable. They should arrive shortly."
Alexander raised a brow. "Why the children, anyway? Why use them at all?"
James's gaze slid toward him, the faintest hint of amusement in his expression. "Oh? Surely you aren't developing a conscience, Mister Alexander?"
"Please," Alexander snorted, "Why would I waste my time pitying weak brats?" He crossed his arms, staring down at the corpses. "The weak have no value in this world. Their only purpose is to be crushed beneath the strong."
His eyes hardened, narrowing on the lifeless bodies."You weaklings disgust me."
To Alexander, the weak existed only as stepping stones. He felt no joy in watching children suffer, but he also felt no guilt. If their pain brought him gain, then so be it. That was the law he lived by—one that made him Rex's opposite in every way. Perhaps that was why they never got along.
James, however, answered in his usual calm, deliberate manner:
"A child's mind is soft clay. A man resists. A child, however… can be shaped. Harden it early enough, and it will hold the form you give it. One soldier, ten, a hundred—the number matters little. What matters is patience."
To James, children were not innocents. They were pliable material. Their minds, their morals, their wills—unfinished, and therefore perfect for molding. If he fed them, sheltered them, "saved" them from death after implantation, then their loyalty—or their fear—would belong entirely to him.
"Adults resist. Their bodies reject the Lacrima violently. Children's bodies adapt more readily. They are… useful." James's voice lingered on the word as though it were fact, not cruelty.
Each child that survived gave him data to refine his methods. Each generation would adapt better than the last. To James, the dead were refuse. The survivors—masterpieces.
Project Requiem was more than an experiment. It was a factory. A breeding ground for artificial mages who would owe their entire existence to him.
"..."
Alexander said nothing to this. He only stared ahead, lost in his own thoughts.
….
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The picture for James is in the comment below
For those who don't know. The person in the cover is Amon.