The room was not an ordinary room. It was neither dusty nor damp, and it lacked the foul stench typical of the first hive's corridors. The air inside was clean, as if filtered by the stone walls themselves. When the iron door creaked open, the metallic scrape echoed across the high ceiling.
Warden Zago stepped inside with steady rhythm. His shoes tapped against the black marble floor, a surface rarely touched by anyone other than those of high rank.
Inside, three people were already waiting.
Raimon stood at the very front, his rigid posture aligned with the massive stone board behind him. The board was filled with carvings. Names. Numbers. Lines. Evaluation columns that had never been publicly explained. A technical assistant was carving in new entries. Each stroke of the chisel produced a harsh scraping sound that clung to the air.
Sendley leaned against an administrative table. A faint metallic smell drifted from its surface. A long iron pen dangled between his fingers, reflecting light like a spike.
Odvan sat on a wooden chair, his body tilted slightly because of the right arm that had been cleanly severed at the elbow. The scar had long closed, yet the skin around it still glistened like heated metal residue.
All three fell silent the moment Warden Zago entered.
Raimon gave a small bow."Warden."
Zago nodded lightly, then approached the stone board. He read the newly carved entries without touching them.
Glenn's group.Clive's group.
The letters were fresh. Still sharp. Still carrying the faint smell of cut stone.
"Today's data?" Zago asked.
The assistant paused his carving. Raimon answered.
"Glenn's group killed two hundred thirty-nine monsters. Efficiency ninety-two percent."
Sendley gave a thin smile. "That boy is too disciplined for his age."
Raimon continued.
"Clive's group… last week killed one hundred fifty-two monsters. Efficiency eighty-eight percent. And they obtained the core of a pygmy monster."
Warden Zago lifted a brow. His lips curved slightly for a brief moment."They killed the director."
Raimon nodded. "Yes."
Zago stepped closer to the board. Torchlight cast his stern face onto the stone surface. He reread the numbers calmly.
"They completed that target very quickly. Not even a month." His tone was that of someone evaluating an experiment. "They have potential. At least some of them."
Zago ran a fingertip along the edge of the data board. The movement was small, yet the sound echoed clearly in the narrow room, like stone being forced to shift. He stared at the numbers longer than usual. The dim light from the wall torches reflected on his face, sharpening the lines of his jaw.
"How long do you think until they can clear the Processing Corridor?"
Silence fell immediately. The air thickened. Sendley and Odvan exchanged a brief look. The muscles in Sendley's neck tightened as he swallowed.
Odvan finally spoke. "Clear it? Warden, that corridor cannot be cleared."
The words dropped heavily, like stones breaking on the floor.
Sendley took a short breath. "The corridor is always refilled. Every week. Depending on how quickly we need new data."
Zago showed no reaction. He continued staring at the board, his expression free of surprise, as if their answer only confirmed something he had long expected.
Odvan went on, his shoulders tensing slightly. "Some of the monsters inside the corridor do not even come from the wild. They are bred."
Raimon turned slowly toward him. His gaze was cold. "In the experimental nest?"
Odvan nodded once. Small, but firm. "Closed colony. Twenty years."
The scraping sound of a chisel from the next chamber cut into the air again. Harsh. Rough. The vibration crawled across the floor and up their backs like metallic shivers. No one commented on it. They were far too used to it.
Zago shifted the data board slightly and leaned closer to examine the new numbers. The muscles along his back tightened as he exhaled.
"You two," he said, his voice low but needing no emphasis, "have both taken part in capturing and restocking that corridor."
Sendley let out a short laugh. There was no humor in his face. "I have. And it was the worst stench I have ever endured. Blood, sweat, and the sound of hundreds of monsters that did not understand why they were being pushed in."
Odvan nodded slowly. His eyes dropped to his severed arm. The fingers of his remaining hand clenched briefly before loosening. "My team and I transported thousands. They stared at us like creatures deciding their fate. And every time a test group like Clive or Glenn killed two hundred, we replaced them with three hundred."
Sendley added, his tone nearly flat. "Sometimes more. Sometimes a more dangerous kind."
Raimon finally spoke again. His tone was calm but sharp like an uncovered blade. "That is why the Processing Corridor never empties. It is not a natural dungeon. It is a controlled pen. Systematic. Designed to maintain pressure so growth data can continue to be tracked."
Zago lifted his gaze, looking at each of them one by one. His eyes were clear, sharp, stripped of any empathy.
"They think they are clearing the corridor," he said quietly. "But they are only swimming in a pool whose water is constantly replaced."
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavier. As if the air itself understood how insignificant human life was within the system they operated.
Sendley eventually spoke. His tone was flat, but the left side of his jaw tightened. "Then what is our plan? Increase the difficulty? Add monsters with more coordination?"
"Not yet," Zago replied.
He turned. His movements were slow and controlled. Torchlight cut across his face, leaving half of it swallowed in shadow. Something lingered in his eyes, something he did not bother to hide.
"We give them time."
Raimon nodded slightly. There was no surprise in his expression. Only the calm understanding of someone who had long prepared for this direction.
Zago continued. "After that, you may add several monsters that possess cores."
Odvan lowered his gaze to the stone board. His remaining fingers brushed the edge of his severed limb. The gesture was reflexive, almost unconscious. "They will assume obtaining cores will become easier after Dilos and Clive reach First Coreforge. They will not know it is only bait for the next conflict."
Zago did not answer. He walked toward a carved stone window. The air there was colder, as if a vast hollow stretched beyond it. No light. No movement. Only pure darkness.
"They are good seedlings," he said softly. His voice echoed faintly against the walls. "But seedlings must be tested by stronger winds. Otherwise, they will fall before their time."
Raimon moved without making a sound. He lifted the cloth covering one of the hidden columns. The fabric brushed softly against the stone before falling. The column displayed a series of numbers:
Mutation Potential IndexDilos: 0.15Clive: 0.03
Sendley leaned forward to take a closer look. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, not a warm smile. "Those who absorb cores will see their values rise. If the number exceeds one point zero, we must decide whether they are worth keeping."
Zago closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them slowly. His eyelids moved like someone weighing the possibility of something terrible. "I do not want a repeat of last year."
The sentence struck the room without needing a raised voice.
Odvan turned his face away. His gaze fell again to his severed arm, this time deeper, as if recalling something he did not wish to remember. Sendley lowered his iron pen. Its tip touched the stone table with a dull tap. Raimon controlled his breathing, holding the air for two seconds before letting it go.
The assistant doing the carving stopped completely. His chisel hovered in the air. No sound followed.
Raimon finally spoke. His voice was very quiet. "I will prepare the report for the next corridor refill. And select a new director candidate."
Zago did not turn. "Hm."
He continued facing the darkness, his posture straight, his shoulders unmoving. There was an unnatural calm in him. The calm of someone arranging the outline of a plan too vast for others to comprehend.
Then he slowly turned around. His movement was precise, like a machine that never miscalculates. A small glint appeared in his eyes. Not excitement. Something closer to cold anticipation.
"We will conduct a new test."
Raimon tilted his head slightly. "What kind."
"We will send Glenn's group and Clive's group inside together. Starting tomorrow, they will clear the processing corridor as a single team."
Sendley raised an eyebrow. A small muscle in his eyelid twitched. "The objective."
Zago produced a thin smile. The skin on his cheeks barely moved. "To see whether conflict appears."
He lifted one finger. "Only one monster with a core. No more."
Odvan murmured, "That will make them react."
"That is the point," Zago replied.
Raimon eventually nodded. "And what kind of conflict do you intend to observe."
Zago looked at the stone board filled with numbers. His gaze was clear and empty at the same time. "We will see whether they fight together. Or kill each other."
The atmosphere tightened, as if the air were being pulled out through an invisible crack.
Zago added quietly, almost like a voice from behind a door. "It should be interesting."
The assistant resumed carving.
The scraping echoed through the room.