Lepin tasted blood.
Truthfully, to simply say he tasted it did no justice to how utterly saturated every available sense was, by blood. His tongue, swollen and leaking the thick, warm fluid from within, could taste every ounce as it was produced therein. His olfactory nerves in the nose - those which hadn't burst upon being launched into the ceiling - relayed the wafting coppery scent to his brain. His eyes, already poorly sighted with his glasses misplaced, saw only dark red and black as he lay broken and bloodied on the floor. His hands slipped about on the ground beneath him, sliding through a growing pool of blood, shards of glass painlessly opening new wounds and letting even more out. His ears were completely ruined.
Where had these fiends come from, and why didn't I know about this? Lepin had been head of Research and Development at Gerudon Power for over 20 years without incident, not even an errant fire alarm, and now the entire facility, along with his life's work, was to be simply destroyed? It seemed too cruel a plot, even for KingCorp. Then again, they gladly built this facility in the first place.
Lepin was fading fast, thoughts growing more abstract and delirious with each passing second. Memories fell through his mind like sand through a sieve as he desperately tried to recall what had led to this moment. The hooded figures, one moving brilliantly through the air while the other lagged behind. The brilliant pillar of light that erupted from Gerudon as he was slain, and the massive shockwave that followed immediately afterwards. But how did those two reach the containment chamber? How had they even known about it? Did they know about Lepin?
Moments from death, Lepin's vision focused just enough to spot an emergency call button on the bottom of his research desk - a direct line to HQ. He knew that by pressing it, he would ensure an Enforcer would arrive on the premises - but if they could somehow stop these psychopaths from rampaging through any more Titan facilities, it would be worth it. Lepin focused every ounce of his being into raising his hand meekly, slowly, towards that alarm, knowing he was dead either way.
20 minutes earlier.
Lepin's alarm device blared angrily for a full cycle and a half before he finally summoned the strength to shut it off with a slap from his palm.Too little sleep in a too-stiff cot just a few dozen meters down the hall from where he was currently spending every hour of every waking day on his research left him in an extra foul mood recently. They needed to learn more about how this all worked, he thought, as his glasses floated over to him from their sanitation tank, delivered on a small gray disc that hovered in the air next to his bed. It's not enough to simply harness this power, there must be some way to create it as well.
He stretched his arms out to the side, sitting up and disrobing as a plain green button-up shirt floated to him and slid around his arms. A quick tap on the collar and it buttoned itself, and a moment later a starch white lab coat followed from his closet and completed the look. Pants, he thought, he could still do himself. He finished getting dressed and snapped at his kitchenette, beckoning a freshly brewed cup of coffee through the air to his hands, aroma breathing life into the tired scientist. He caught the mug and headed out the door toward his laboratory.
All these cheap tricks almost seemed like magic and even felt like it at times, but Lepin was painfully aware of the painstaking hours it had taken to program every object he wanted to move in just the right way. Coffee had been the latest addition to this little routine of his, and for the first week or so he kept delivering it to his position near the door upside down or sideways or else in some other unfortunate configuration. Sometimes the mug still left the coffee behind, but for the most part, he had those kinks worked out now. Yes, once you learn the mechanism behind the trick, the magic does fade away.
His laboratory opened with a retinal scan and to his relief, it remained undisturbed from how he had left it a mere... six? Six hours ago or so. It was currently very early in the morning, and the moons still hung high in the air. Sunrise wouldn't be for at least another two hours. Lepin couldn't rest much more than that, however. Reports of a potential saboteur had reached his desk, so he was disturbed from his rest early and often enough for a mandatory security status report he felt he truly didn't need to be a part of. This had persisted for weeks now and had completely altered his sleeping habits. Still, it was more sleep than he got as a faceless researcher in his academic days. More than he suspected the researchers he employed here were getting as well. A luxury, then, to even get these six hours.
He strode across the laboratory to the observation window he'd had constructed when he took over this post. He had always wanted to see what, exactly, they were doing here. Nobody in the facility was prohibited from going down to the pit, but it wasn't exactly encouraged either. He had figured a window was the perfect compromise, as it didn't tear him away from his work but also allowed him to keep that thing in sight at all times.
Gerudon the Titan.
Several hundred meters below, suspended on a three-meter thick steel platform above an impossible bottomless pit, was a godly being known as Gerudon, currently sitting cross-legged. Titanic shackles chained his wrists and ankles to the corners of his square platform, but they were there to ensure he didn't fall over the edge in his sleep. As long as Lepin had known the beast he had seemed to give his energy willingly, as he refused to fight those who had imprisoned him here two hundred years ago. A spinal tap drained a never-ending flow of two fluids, golden and green respectively. Two absolutely essential resources that, to date, no one had been able to synthesize independently. They needed the Titans chained as they were - for now. Lepin was certain they would find another way, any day now. Someone, somewhere, would make that breakthrough eventually.
Some still called it magical, and maybe it was. Truthfully the answer was still hidden to them all these years later. Hence this laboratory, Lepin's life work. They would come to understand this beast. Nothing else was more important in the entire kingdom, no, the entire history of the world, than understanding the properties of this titan's essence and creating a method to synthesize it.
He walked over to his incubator and removed a rack of test tubes that held samples of spinal fluid. Each tube used a different binding agent, attempting to discover one that could one day preserve the sample. These had each been extracted a mere 12 hours ago, and held in conditions similar to the Titan's body. None had worked this time, rather unsurprisingly. Scientists who were successful in the past had each discovered the exact conditions necessary to produce elixirs with simply magical properties - some capable of restoring the body, others capable of granting abilities to the user. Some abilities were permanent, like Lepin's ability to program motion. He had paid a hefty price for such a rare elixir, and he shamefully reflected on his petty applications of this wonder. When you discover the right conditions to preserve the fluid, you make something wonderful, terrible, or both.
Lepin glanced over his shoulder to peer at Gerudon once again and noticed something peculiar. Often it took several days for the titan to change resting position. It had taken him four days to move from lying on the ground to sitting cross-legged, back upright and arms hanging lamely from each side. That was how Lepin had observed him just moments ago, but now his arms were each held up in front of him, elbows bent downwards just above his thighs, hands parallel with his shoulders. His fingers were cupped to his thumbs, and his eyes were closed. It almost looked like he was meditating.
Lepin dropped a worthless test tube in shock, not even taking note of the mess of fluids that spilled over his desk. This was a new pose! And one he could seemingly do much more quickly than he had ever been observed to move. He had to ensure it was recorded on their video surveillance feeds - this was perhaps the most remarkable thing to have happened in over a decade, after all. Luckily, their continuous video surveillance system was programmed with real-time playback now; a change Lepin himself had implemented when he began heading this facility. It reduced their dependence on the human eye to catch observation-worthy events in real-time and allowed more staff to be diverted away from their security staff and towards their much more crucial research staff. Every single pair of hands in those laboratories counted, now.
Lepin frowned as he scanned his iris at his console, attempting to access the live feeds. It seemed to attempt to open the footage but crashed quickly after, only flashing for a brief moment a still image of Gerudon in his previous configuration, where his arms were limp at his sides. He tried again with no success. Finally, he tried to reset the console completely. He tapped his foot impatiently as the state-of-the-art computer took a full thirty seconds to reboot. His eyes darted furiously between the console screen and the titan out the window, trying to focus on his position and the progress bar at the same time. Luckily, he seemed intent on holding this new position for a while, and moments later the console accepted his iris scan and opened the live feed.
As Lepin moved the console's pointer down towards the live feed timeline, his blood ran cold. The footage of the movement was... missing? Instead of a live video feed like he was used to, an error symbol he had never even seen before greeted him. Nothing like this had ever happened before. They had failsafes on top of failsafes built on the graves of the old failsafe designed to prevent exactly this scenario! How had every single video feed gone down simultaneously?
Lepin swiped the console off his desk, shouting in frustration as he did it. A moment later, he grimaced; that would not be easy to replace. He would need to take his notes on paper for a few weeks while the materials were flown in for fabrication. But that's exactly what he would need to do now anyway, so he shook off the regret and reached for his notepad. He flipped through pages of equations and illustrations of Gerudon and the various structures of his cells before finding precious few blank pages near the back of the book. He only needed a few pages, so this would do. If the cameras hadn't seen his transformation, he would have to document this wondrous event by hand.
Every scientist and scholar at Lepin's employ was trained meticulously in the art of illustration for exactly this purpose, and he hoped that at least five others were doing as he did right now. His pen seemed to move automatically as he quickly sketched a base layer of the Titan's initial position, only taking time to draw the anatomical shapes and limb positions. Further detail could be pulled from the archives of their footage later. What was much more important was capturing his current position, as footage may not even exist depending on the state of their camera array. He affixed a glass lens to a portion of the window in front of him that magnified the Titan in his view greatly, so it seemed he was a mere few meters in front of his illustration desk, floating there on that wide platform with his hands held in a distinct meditation pose. Now that he could see it closer, Lepin was sure that's exactly what it was. How fascinating! His various resting positions normally seemed chosen at random, but now this was deliberate. It was perhaps the first sign of tangible intelligence they had ever recorded from Gerudon, let alone any Titans at that.
That thought made Lepin's stomach turn. Could it be... intelligent? He glanced at the massive chains around its wrists and ankles with a frown, then shook the thought out of his head. It could hardly matter anymore, what Gerudon wanted. So it didn't matter if he could want. His place in this world was to serve humankind, now and forever. At least it needed to be. It needed to be.
From the corner of his eyes, outside of the magnifying lens, Lepin saw something odd. Two dark figures moved quickly towards the Titan's platform, one leaving the other behind with incredible speed. He slid the magnifying lens to his left to get them in view and saw two men wearing long, dark cloaks obscuring most of their bodies sprinting directly towards the Titan's suspended platform.
How had they gotten down there? It was at least a kilometer deep into their facility, and only a single elevator could carry anyone down there. That elevator would require the iris scan of somebody with Lepin's clearance or higher, and he was the only one here with that authority level. That aside, the surveillance system should have alerted every living soul in this damned place of their presence the second they entered their perimeter!
He steadied his breathing, adjusting the lens to follow the faster one in front. What did these fools even plan to do? Gerudon's platform was suspended in the air above a true bottomless pit, with a 50-meter gap between the end of the walkway from the elevator and the edge of his platform. Without one of their fabrication devices or Lepin himself, no one could reach Gerudon. Those fabrication devices were secured in Lepin's strongbox, which he kept safe in his quarters and checked every night. The boy he watched sprint was eerily fast, but even with speed like his nobody could make the jump required to reach Gerudon.
Suddenly, the cloaked figure stretched an arm out to his side and, accompanied by a brilliant flash of light, materialized a massive spear, entirely too large to hold in one person's hands. As he ran, he shifted the tip of the spear forward and angled it downwards. It found purchase in the ground and bowed for a moment as if to snap. The man wrapped both arms around the spear's shaft towards the end, kicked his legs off the ground, and pointed them forward. The spear snapped forward, flinging the man through the air with terrifying speed, and burst into emerald light. Lepin held a hand to his mouth in horror as he watched that man raise his arms above his head in mid-air as he hurtled directly at the defenseless god-Titan, spear manifesting once again in another brilliant flash, then being driven home directly through Gerudon's throat.
What followed next was a massive explosion the likes of which Lepin, nor any scientist in any military division had ever seen. The glass window he stood behind shattered a second after the flash of light appeared from Gerudon's platform and Lepin was thrown up and back into the ceiling behind him. Falling to the ground once again, he saw flashes of light and stars before briefly losing consciousness.
Lepin raised a bloody, shaky hand from the ground where he lay and tapped the small alarm button with the back of a broken wrist, pain shooting up his arm and back. Nothing. He tried again, more forcefully, feeling something move that shouldn't have beneath his skin. Nothing. There was no power left in this system, thanks to those maniacal terrorists bent on dooming them all.
He sighed, collapsing on his side and rolling over on his back. How much time had passed? Looking to his right out the window to the facility antechamber, he saw the titan Gerudon slain on the ground. An immortal life ended so senselessly. Having known Gerudon for most of his own life, he felt a sense of pity and an immense sense of guilt. If he ever saw that majestic being again somehow, he would beg forgiveness.
Lepin winced, feeling his torn open side with his less broken hand. Blood soaked through his white lab coat at an alarming rate. He would only last a few more minutes like this - but nothing could be done about that now. Lepin had always planned on dying here anyways - it's just his vision involved something more like collapsing at his desk at an old age, or passing peacefully in his sleep one night between experiments. This - this was far worse than he had ever hoped for.
It's not fair! What did I ever do! Who did I curse with my work, my name, my industry?
His racing thoughts froze as his hearing cleared a bit, and the sound of a heavy man in heavy boots came echoing from the hallways outside the observation room he lay in now. He hadn't seen the man in person before, but he'd heard of him. Graves. Former mercenary, now apparently the leader of a terrorist organization bent on the destruction of civilization. He had, evidently, decided to start his crusade with the facility Lepin was in charge of. A simple power plant, as it should have been known to the masses. How they learned of Gerudon he didn't know.
Lepin's vision began to fade quickly as Graves turned the corner and strode right for him. His ears could barely make out a gruff voice coming from the figure, seeming to say "--, stim 'im. Quick, it looks like he's going now." He tossed something to a more slender figure walking a few feet behind him, who caught it deftly and seemed to warp through the air towards Lepin's side where he injected Lepin using a device with two thick syringes. Within a second Lepin felt warmth stretching throughout his body, filling every cavity and extremity with raw vitality. The first needle carried Revival, apparently, and the second... he shifted his head to the injection point and saw foam bubbling from the wound, sealing it and hardening in seconds. Revival would do you no good if it all poured out of you seconds after injection, so this popular field medicine sealed it in at the same time.
"So," Lepin panted, struggling to compose himself as energy filled every cell in his body and bound his bones back together, "you bastards benefit from our work, yet you seek to destroy it. So tell me - tell me why! Why do you target us scientists who are working to make this world better?" Gods, this stuff really emboldened even the weakest field mouse.
Graves dropped to a squat next to Lepin, his face coming more clearly into view as the Revival coursed into Lepin's eyes and corrected their shape. He was an older man, roughly into his 50's most likely, with a course, short beard and a crooked nose bent slightly to the left. His hair bore a military-style cut that didn't look even a little disturbed by the rampage Lepin knew the man had so recently been on. A large circular scar was struck into his slightly caved-in left cheek and above that... God, he had murder in his dark eyes. Lepin had never seen one so angry before. He matched his gaze for just a moment and had to look away to keep his composure.
The Revival surged through Lepin's shattered spine and he was forced up into a sitting position, eyes level with the murderer, though he dared not make eye contact again. Graves didn't say a word for so long. He was staring straight at Lepin with an intensity befitting of one who could slay a Titan, chest heaving with each breath. Even with the Revival working so quickly to mend his wounds, Lepin couldn't raise a hand to this man and keep it. Not even to mention the other man with him, body mostly obscured with a cloak. He was the one who had moved through the air so quickly he couldn't follow his steps - although he had been dying, so it's possible it was a trick of mind. Of course, there were more fantastical explanations for his speed - and for the precision and swiftness with which he found the most impactful injection point for the Revival. But truly, what did it matter? What about this figure drew so much focus?
"You killed him, two-hundred years ago. You did this." Graves finally spoke with a voice that sounded like shards of glass being ground in a crucible. His vocal cords must be tatters - why in the world didn't this man simply take a Mend and restore them?
"I saw your boy ram a spear the length of a train car through his throat mere moments ago. If this is a case of mistaken identity, I beg of you to let me go to safety while you confront your subordinate." Why did he say that?! Perhaps it was the Revival warmly massaging his brain back to life, but Lepin felt more confident in front of these monsters than he had in a long while. As he spoke, he glanced at the cloaked figure and concentrated on what was visible on his face. Long, dark hair fell just over his eyes and the cloak cast shadows that concealed most of his facial features, but he could still make out two piercing emerald eyes within. They almost seemed to glow, albeit faintly, but that could just be the Revival's effects. Sometimes it overcorrected. The only thing that he was sure of about this man was that he was terrifying, for some reason even more so than Graves, whose own eyes could paralyze men much stronger than Lepin. He was grateful for a moment they had chosen Revival to rouse him, for he was sure it was the only reason he was able to stand his ground to these two even a little.
They didn't respond to his comment for what felt like an eternity. These killers just stared, breathing quietly as if daring Lepin to make a move of any kind. He didn't dare, obviously, even though he knew they would kill him. Still, maybe if he could get them to talk, he could learn more of their motives before he was gone. Maybe if they spent their time here, with him, he could save some time for anyone still left in the facility to realize what was happening and get out and make it home to their families. Lepin thought of his wife for no more than a second before discarding the thought. He realized then that he didn't love her, and was only still with her to fulfill some expectations that came with a status like his within the corporation. It was... strange, how naturally this realization came to him now, as he faced certain death.
"You know what I mean. You know why we're doing this. Why we're going to kill them all. If you and all your little scientists knew what you were doing here, you would kill them too. Right before you put one between your eyes for your part in all of this."
"We do know!" Lepin sputtered, Graves' words striking his chest like a cold dagger. Kill them all? Gerudon was not the only one they needed? Was their true goal really so calamitous? "We want to find a better way, but it's impossible! There's simply no replacement, and there's no going back. This is just the way the world is and you psychopaths don't get to just throw it all into chaos because you have some moral qualms with the method! What gives you the right to undo everything we've worked so hard for? The things we've been able to achieve as mankind, the illnesses and diseases we've eradicated. We're going to the moons next month! A generation ago could never have dreamed of the heights we're reaching, and you want to just -
Lepin had to stop talking as a leather-gloved hand struck him square in the mouth mid-sentence, knocking loose half his teeth and blinding him. It took about thirty seconds for the Revival to replace them as he choked on his blood, eventually spitting it and all the broken teeth out. The Revival was slowing down and it became clearer to Lepin that his confidence and manner of speaking had all come from that glorious substance. It was highly unlikely his captors would be giving him another dose, however.
The cloaked figure had been the one to strike him, but he had already stepped back into his original position just a few feet behind Graves. Good lord, but he was fast. He didn't offer any commentary of his own, but Lepin could tell they weren't taking kindly to his justifications. In all honesty, Lepin himself didn't believe in the words. He looked over his shoulder at the slain Gerudon, his once towering body stretched across the floor of a large platform suspended in the center of a bottomless pit. Golden blood continued to pour out of the wound in his neck even now and had started spilling over the sides of the platform in several locations to fall forever into the earth below. As he studied the body, he noticed for the first time the ruined skin around his wrists and ankles, bound by colossal shackles carved with runes of Subjugation. Complete dominance and control had been maintained over this magnificent beast for so many years now, but apparently he still struggled in place against his captivity.
Lepin suddenly felt sick, and his newly restored stomach was doing flips. What had they done?
"Tell me," Graves spat, "are your other facilities as well defended as this one?" He chuckled and looked back at the cloaked one, who actually chuckled back. So this thing was human to some degree, just... better? Certainly capable of feats of athleticism greater than Lepin had ever witnessed. No man should have control over a weapon the size he had slain Gerudon with, yet he hand managed to kill the titan in a single blow. Not to mention what he had heard throughout the facility corridors as these two searched for Lepin himself. All those good scientific minds extinguished in mere minutes... Lepin shivered as the last bit of Revival burnt away in his blood. He could once again feel his injuries, though healed now. A phantom pain radiated through his entire body, heightened where his body had suffered the most. Withdrawal after a single dose, he thought. The one downside to Revival he could think of. The foam at his side had bonded to his flesh and would be assimilated as skin - at least it would if these two let him live.
"They're all about the same," he sighed. "You will almost certainly achieve your goal. Though I'm sure once news of our demise reaches headquarters, defenses will be bolstered."
"You did not take us seriously. Why?" The cloaked figure had spoken this time, still staring at Lepin unblinkingly. His voice sounded young but steeled, and he spoke with the conviction and grace of a king. Lepin's eyes widened as he realized who he was cowering beneath for the first time."
"Y--y-your Grace! We didn't know it was you! We thought you long dead, or- well, some did! But I always believed! I knew you would return to us and I never stopped pledging my loyalty to you! I never-"
"Quiet."
Lepin's mouth snapped shut, his new teeth sending shocks of pain throughout his gums. So the manifesto had been real. The royal seal wasn't a forgery. This was his Grace Elphret Hrathgard, who had gone missing some years ago as a mere boy in an apparent abduction. He must have been at least twenty years of age at this point and had apparently been busy in his absence. Busy channeling the Soul of the planet at that!
"Graves, I think I want them to know it's me. If every facility is this easy, we may move too quickly for our plans to fully develop. Give me the signet ring."
The older man grunted, putting a cloth to his hand to suppress a cough. His hand pulled away with specks of blood on the cloth. You fool, Lepin thought, just take the Mend! Graves reached into his cloak and withdrew a heavy golden ring with the seal of House Hrathgard instead of a stone. All metal. Elphret slid the ring onto his left hand and approached Lepin, pushing him back to the floor proper. The terrified man scurried backward with his hands until his back hit the glass window behind him, elbows both striking it and sending another jolt of pain back through his body. Elphret slowly pulled a black leather glove off of his left hand, revealing skin paler than a healthy boy should have. Oh, my King, what has become of you?
The last thing Lepin saw was the King's ghostly hand stretch slowly in a fist to present the ring between his knuckles, which was becoming superheated by some means Lepin himself couldn't understand. All light vanished completely as the white-hot ring was pressed slowly into Lepin's right eye, instantly blinding him with pain. And then the left, leaving the distinct mark of the seal. The putrescent smell of burning flesh caused his body to jerk and gag reflexively. Lepin tried to scream, but the air wouldn't leave his mouth. His hands were pushed out of the way as he tried to reach for his face, somehow understanding through an impossible pain that his airways were being melted shut. Soon his eyes, nose, and mouth each bore the royal signet of House Hrathgard, imprinted on ruined, melted flesh, and Lepin was left to drown in all the blood welling up inside his throat, a deep feeling of regret and longing accompanying his mind to the eternities.