Chapter 76: Summoner and Ravin Elteth

Chapter 76: Summoner and Ravin Elteth Ravin Elteth entered the secret chamber hidden deep within the infirmary—a room stripped of any warmth or humanity. It was where they had kept Mike, once a vibrant student, now reduced to little more than an experiment. The last time Ravin had visited, Mike had still looked somewhat human. Back then, it had been mostly physical checks, examinations meant to observe the early stages of his condition. But now... Now was different. Mike was strapped tightly to a massive steel chair, his limbs spread wide and locked in position. Metallic wires, some thick and others as thin as hair, ran through his veins like parasitic roots. A long, spear-like rod was embedded deep into the center of his chest, impaling him so completely that one might have mistaken him for a corpse. This horrifying scene was entirely Ravin’s doing. General Albert had given Ravin full clearance—permission to take the project away from Silver and continue the experiments alone. At his own request, no one else was allowed entry into this room. No witnesses. No oversight. The first day, Ravin had simply evaluated Mike’s physicals. After that, the cruelty escalated. Day after day, he subjected Mike to brutal tests—torture disguised as research—pushing the limits of what the boy’s altered body could withstand. He measured every reaction, documented every change. And today, he had a specific target in mind. He wanted to study Mike’s eyes. According to Silver’s earlier reports, before she had been removed from the project, Mike’s Integration had heightened his visual processing. His eyes could detect motion and detail faster than normal humans—a gift from his Summon. But the Summon was gone now. Or so they believed. Ravin was determined to see what remained. He approached Mike’s limp figure, wearing nothing but gloves. In his right hand, he held a scleral spoon—a cruel instrument designed to extract the eye without care. The moment Mike saw the gleam of metal, panic overtook him. His body convulsed weakly, writhing against the restraints, but his strength was long gone. "Shut the hell up," Ravin growled coldly, "by now you should have accepted you are a living corpse." Without hesitation, he shoved the spoon under Mike’s eyelid and began to pry it open. The motion was slow, methodical, and agonizing. Ravin forced the eye out of its socket, twisting and yanking until the optic nerve finally tore free. Mike let out a muffled scream, but no words came. A thick tube had been pushed through his mouth, reaching deep into his throat. All that escaped was a gurgled groan—hollow and hopeless. Ravin held the eyeball in his hand, still glistening with warmth, and turned it slowly in the light. "Aye," he muttered with amusement, "you should be happy I only took one." He giggled, a high, eerie sound that echoed through the cold room, and strolled toward a table filled with equipment—scalpels, vials, scanners, and tools no sane person would ever want to identify. "Mike," he continued, his tone casual like that of a doctor making small talk with a patient, "you are already dead to the outside world. So you’re nothing but a puppet now. Why do you keep on struggling? You should know... no one is coming for you. Unless you can somehow revive your summon, that is." He laughed again, louder this time. "I still don’t grasp you humans—so full of emotion. So easily manipulated. So... pathetic." For the next few hours, Ravin experimented on the extracted eyeball, subjecting it to tests—light responsiveness, core energy detection, residual Summon analysis. He scribbled down notes, observed reactions, and calibrated data. Then he made a discovery. Something that froze even him for a moment. "This is... marvelous," he whispered, eyes wide. "There are still remnants of your core energy in your body. So your Summon didn’t die... it was taken." He stood slowly, his thoughts racing. "But that should be impossible. No Summon can be stolen—unless... there’s a method I haven’t yet discovered." He turned to look at Mike, who was still trembling violently in his restraints, trying—futilely—to break free. ’A first summoner soldier... what if I mutated him into something more? A beast. A new breed of summoner who still holds fragments of his lost power.’ Ravin’s mind spiraled with possibilities. Without another word, he left the room and made his way down a series of hidden tunnels. He avoided the main infirmary corridors—he didn’t want the students to see him or sense what he had done. Eventually, he reached a stone wall at the tunnel’s end. He placed his hand against a specific section. With a low mechanical hum, the wall shifted aside, revealing a secret door beyond. Ravin walked through, and the passage sealed itself shut behind him. He reached the door at the other end of the hall and kicked it open without hesitation, stepping into Albert’s office. The pen came flying almost immediately. It sliced past Ravin’s head, embedding itself into the wooden door behind him with a sharp thunk. "What did I say about entering my office like that?" Albert snapped, voice seething with rage. Ravin didn’t flinch. He calmly pulled the pen from the door and studied it. "Impressive strength," he said, almost admiringly. "But I have news. First though, what happened to the other experiment—the shadow kid?" Albert exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. "He’s under the Forbidden Family. He can’t be touched. Not now." Ravin pouted. "I’ll never understand you summoners. You split the earth into six—maybe eight—different planets and still pretend to protect one unified cause. You mistake control for unity." Albert slammed his fist down on the table, the desk shaking under the force. "Speak!" he roared. Ravin smiled. "The toy you gave me—he still has traces of his Summon’s energy. Which means... his summon wasn’t destroyed. It was taken. But that’s not all. There’s also evidence of a second Summon’s DNA within him. At first, I thought it was the same—it matched 99.999%. But the thickness was off. Barely, but enough." Albert’s expression shifted to one of realization. "So... another summon stole his?" Ravin shrugged. "Could be another summon. A beast. A man. An alien. A toy. A rat. Who knows? But there’s only one way to find out." He stepped forward. "I need clearance. Full access. Let me roam Titanfang and test everyone. Find the DNA match. Find the thief." Albert knew where this was heading. Ravin didn’t care about the mission. He wasn’t trying to protect humanity. He was chasing something else—knowledge, madness, the thrill of rewriting existence. It was dangerous. But also necessary. Because the war would return. And someone had to be the villain to birth the next hero. Albert closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and gave the only answer possible. "You have my permission." A dark grin spread across Ravin’s face. ’Oh, you’ll regret it,’ he thought. Albert watched him leave and whispered to himself, ’I will shake the devil... to build paradise in the end.’