Book of the Seven Celestials: The Third Prophecy

Prologue: The Past That Felt So Distant

* * *

In a stark and sterile underground laboratory lies concealed from the world, shrouded by jungles, nestled among hills and mountains where birds sing, signing the no tale to the masked secret.

The walls were a blinding white, almost excessively pristine, reflecting the fluorescent lights that hummed above. The air carries a cold, clinical quality, permeated by the faint hum of machinery and the sporadic beeps of monitors, all witnessing the test results through the observational eyes of those who reside there.

Rows of metal tables and glass enclosures line the room, each one meticulously organized with various scientific instruments and medical equipment.

In a brightly lit room adjacent to the hallway, researchers in pristine white lab coats moved around as they were engrossed in their tasks, eyes fixed on the screens displaying complex data streams and charts.

Their faces were obscured by masks and goggles, adding an impersonal, almost robotic air to their demeanor. Some were hunched over microscopes, meticulously examining samples. While the others typed furiously on their keyboards as they diligently inputted and analyzed data.

The room buzzed with the soft murmur of scientific jargon. Papers and files, filled with cryptic notes and diagrams, were scattered across desks.

Despite the chaos, there was an unsettling efficiency to their movements, as if every action was part of a well-rehearsed routine.

The researchers communicated in hushed tones, punctuated by the occasional beeps of machines or the rustle of their papers. Their focus was unwavering, driven by a cold, clinical determination to achieve their mysterious objectives.

Regardless.

Of what it cost.

* * *

In a stark, white-walled room, a young boy of eleven years old lay on a bed.

His small frame was ensnared by a web of steel shackles and leather ties.

Bruises marred his wrists, vivid red marks as a display of struggle and confinement. Yet, in a surreal twist, the crimson hue gradually sank beneath his skin, as if some unseen force had voluntarily drawn it away, leaving behind his original fair skin.

His long, black hair cascaded down his back, a dark waterfall against the sterile whiteness of the boy's surroundings. Clad in a simple white hospital gown, his emerald eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, reflecting a world that felt so distant and unreachable.

Beside him, a machine hummed softly, its mechanical arm inserting a needle into his arm.

A strange, glittering purple liquid flowed into his veins, and within moments, his body began to tremble violently, as if caught in the throes of a tempest.

Pain etched across his scrunched face.

And dark veins, like twisted roots, spread from the injection site, creeping up his arm and coiling around one side of his neck, with some of the inky tendrils reaching toward his heart.

In that dream-like state, time lost all meaning. He felt trapped in a liminal space, where whispers echoed inside his mind―faint, indistinct murmurs that tugged at the edges of his consciousness.

Blurry images flickered before his eyes, fragments of conversations and scenes from a past he could not fully grasp, memories that felt familiar and foreign.

They might be his―they might not be.

After thirty agonizing minutes, his tremors gradually slowed down until they finally ceased, leaving him still and silent, with only the occasional rise and fall of his chest, indicating the life that persisted within him.

For now, he had once again survived this harrowing injection.

Yet, the battle within him was far from over.

A sensation akin to a ball of ice now burning inside his heart, concurrently with a darting pain and the unexpected intervals in between.

And this always happens, with no way to ease it except to endure like he always had thus far, for an hour, if he were lucky.

* * *

While in another place.

In the dimly lit, chilly corridor of the underground laboratory, a guard forcefully ushered a girl into a small, daunting room. 

Left with no choice, the girl began to walk, her footsteps resonating ominously off the concrete walls. The scene shifted, revealing several other children being thrust into similar rooms with equal harshness. 

Their wrists were secured by unique metal handcuffs, and collars adorned with sinister red lights that wrapped around their necks.

Blindfolds obscured their vision, adding to this purposely disorienting effect.

Within these chambers, the children faced wolves, each one twice the size of an ordinary wolf.

Their growls filled the stifling silence, accompanied by the metallic clink of the chains restraining them.

With its light gray, downy fur that looks dirty, countless scars, and marks of sutures, their looks exude a downright spine-chilling, along with a touch of baleful presence.

Suddenly, the lights on the children's collars extinguished. With a metallic clank, it fell to the floor. Next was the handcuffs, echoed a sound akin to grinding gears, then swiftly released, freeing their arms from any movement obstruction. 

Subsequently, the children removed their blindfolds as if it were a natural response to the current situation, which seemed to be nothing new for them.

Sharp eyes that seemed out of place were plastered on their youthful faces. They looked warily at the beast before them, a looming threat they needed to eliminate.

Then, out of nowhere, a shrill sound echoed through each room, followed shortly by a mechanical voice announcing to the children that their time had finally come.

It was their test to see if they would survive this obstacle―or not.

This challenge was meant to prove their worth to the organization, or they could only struggle to escape, clawing out of the misery from a gorge designated for those of no use and no value.

However, saying that they would claw their way out in itself was an overstatement, as no one had ever survived if they ever lost in this challenge.

"The fourth additional test on June 13, 2993. The batch of 137 group A has officially begun."

The chain fell from the beast as it resumed the growl. Its tail was held stiffly in a horizontal position, poised to lunge at its presumed prey. 

After all, it had been a long time since it had been fed properly. The children in front of these wolves were a perfect meal to fill their bellies.

*Groar*

*Rawr*

Saliva dripped between the menacing gleam of their sharpened teeth and fangs, pooling on the white vinyl sheet flooring beneath their snarling mouths.

Their claws scraped against the floor, producing a chilling, metallic screech as they charged forward. Their greedy eyes demand attention: saliva pools over their indignation at the taste that might come from the slab of meat before them.

Eventually, the underground lab echoed with a cacophony of primal roars and desperate cries.

The children who were already altered by the experiments fought back with a mix of supernatural abilities.

Their breaths came in ragged gasps, punctuated by the occasional scream of pain or shout of defiance against their conditions.

The clash of bodies was chaotic, the thud of heavy paws against the ground, the snap of jaws closing on empty air, and the dull thud of impacts reverberating as the children used their enhanced strength to fend off the attackers.

*Huff, huff, huff*

Amidst the turmoil, there was an underlying rhythm of heartbeats, fast and frantic, a testament to the life and death struggle unfolding in the depths of this lab.

* * *

I had heard that, in the world of the living, there was a thing called luck… perhaps I wasn't so lucky after all, for all I bore then was the silence upon my memories, lost in the back rows of my mind.

-El's First Note-