Deep beneath the capital of the Shiena Kingdom, inside a secret laboratory, a man and a woman in white gowns walked through a dark underground corridor. Cold iron cells lined both sides of the hallway. Both of them held a clipboard as they proceeded along, stopping in front of each cell.
“…Number 7?” the woman asked, glancing down at her clipboard.
“Check,” the man replied lazily, letting out a yawn.
“Number 8?”
“Also ready for action.”
“And finally, Number 9?”
“Uh… ready for action, I guess?”
The woman stopped walking as she raised her eyebrows, clearly unimpressed.
“What do you mean by ‘I guess’?”
The man scratched his head, then lifted his clipboard and showed it to her.
“Number 9 started showing some strange reactions yesterday.”
The woman frowned, “Strange how?”
“Well… apparently she’s been moving oddly. Like she has emotions in her body.”
“Nonsense,” the woman smirked. “She’s a homunculus, for the love of the Goddess. She doesn’t have emotions, let alone the ability to think.”
“Yeah, I know that,” the man shot her a look. “But yesterday, when she woke up, she started screaming. Stuff like, ‘What am I doing here?’ and ‘Where is this place?’”
He paused.
“…She sounded just like a real human.”
Before he could finish, the woman smacked his head with her clipboard.
“HEY!”
“Stop talking nonsense,” she snapped. “We’re losing the war. If we want even a chance at beating the Empire, this homunculus project has to be completed.”
“Fine, fine,” the man sighed, rubbing the top of his head. “Then I’ll just… I don’t know, go check on her or something?”
“No need.”
“What?”
“Ready or not, as long as they can move properly, all of them will begin intense training starting today under Instructor Demo.”
There was a brief silence. The man blinked once.
“…Training?” Then twice. “By Instructor Demo?”
He swallowed.
“The brother of Colonel Devon? The guy new recruits call a walking devil just from hearing his name? The one who makes soldiers piss themselves before training even starts?”
“The very same,” the woman replied flatly as she scribbled something onto her clipboard.
The man and woman walked side by side down the corridor, stopping at each iron cell door that held a homunculus inside. As they inspected each one, the man’s expression gradually darkened.
“You know…” the man said carefully, glancing toward one of the iron cell doors, “are you sure this is… I don’t know… humane?”
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“Are you questioning our ethics?” the woman replied, not even looking at him. “You think this is something elves would do? Dwarves? Beastkin? Angels?”
“That’s not what I meant…” the man said, shaking his head.
She turned away and began walking toward the staircase leading upward.
“It’s been eight years since the Emavia Empire attacked us for our rich mineral resources,” she continued. “Eight years.”
Magisets Oliver followed a step behind, quiet now.
The Empire was fighting two other major nations, the Yiuiong Dynasty and the Republic of Prancón, and yet with only two legions out of twelve, the Eleventh and Twelfth Legions alone had pushed them to the brink.
Meanwhile, their own kingdom had lost countless soldiers despite having nine entire army groups. Thousands of men were lost and important army personnel weren’t much different. General of the 2nd Corps, killed in battle. The 3rd, missing. The 8th, captured. The 9th Corps' Mage Division, annihilated…
Oliver sucked in a breath, his tone turning hopeful. "But the new general of the 3rd Corps, General Sionia, killed the Commander of the Eleventh Legion—"
“We even lost Fort Stonebridge.” She stopped briefly on the stairs, completely ignoring Oilver. “A fortress declared impenetrable. It fell in one day."
She resumed walking as they ascended, nodding to the guards stationed along the way. Each one armed with batons, doubling as artifacts, ready to transport the homunculus.
“The order to create super soldiers was issued three years into the war.” She glanced back at him. “Do you know why?”
Oliver hesitated, then answered softly. “Because we were desperate.”
“Exactly.” Her voice was cold. “Five years have passed since then and there were no meaningful gains. And our deadline is ten.”
She stopped at the top of the stairs.
“After that,” she said, “there will be no hope left of defeating the Empire.”
Oliver stared down the bright hallway in front of them, contrast to the dark hallway they had just passed.
“…So we’re betting everything on them,” he said.
The woman didn’t deny it. Instead, she grimaced.
“We started with one hundred. Only nine remain, just like our military." She stepped out onto the surface and let out a quiet sigh. “…It feels like fate.”
“Yeah…” The man forced a weak smile, staring back down the dark hallway.
Guards were already moving in, dragging homunculus out of their cells one by one.
“HEY!”
A sudden crash echoed through the corridor.
One of the cell doors burst open, slamming against the wall. A girl with silver hair stumbled out, orange eyes wide and burning. She was breathing heavily, her white gown clinging to her body. Her face twisted with fury.
“Who are you people, and wha—”
“Number 9 is showing signs of aggression!”
“Subdue her immediately!”
“Use only light force!”
The guards rushed in, batons raised. Several of them jumped onto her at once, trying to pin her down, pressing their weight against her shoulders and arms.
It didn’t work.
“LET GO OF ME!”
With an angry cry, the girl surged upward. The guards were thrown off as if they weighed nothing, crashing into the floor and walls.
The corridor fell silent for a split second.
“I-I—what? I d-did I…?” The girl stammered.
Oilver and the woman couldn’t see her face from where they stood, but her voice alone made it obvious. She was panicking.
“…Perhaps you were right,” the woman said with a quiet sigh. “She does seem to have emotions.”
“I told you!” Oliver blurted out.
Before either of them could say more, frantic shouts erupted below.
“Catch her!”
“We can’t let her escape!”
“Don’t touch me!”
More crashing followed as sounds of bodies hitting walls and clanking of steel echoed. The guards struggled desperately. Unable to seriously injure her and lacking proper weapons like swords, they were being thrown around instead.
“I-I don’t want to hurt you!” the girl cried.
Then—THUCK. A dull, solid sound echoed through the corridor as something light hit the ground. The chaos stopped.
“You were having trouble with this girl?” a new disdainful voice said. “Pathetic.”
“That man,” Oliver murmured. A green light flared below, its glow stretching up the corridor and reflecting off the walls.
“Correct.” The woman turned away without hesitation. “A knight of the Emerald Order.”
She began walking off.
“Let’s go. We’re done here.”
“Alright…Magisets Morona,” the man replied, hesitating for a moment before following her.
And just like that, the two of them left the secret laboratory behind. Leaving the nine homunculus to their fate, now resting in the hands of a stranger.
