Wang Yue was, after all, good-natured. Any other cat would have turned around and bitten someone for yanking on their tail.
Instead, she simply patted the blonde girl’s head, murmured a few soft complaints, and warned her not to stroke it again. Once that was settled, the three of them followed the stone gallery into a garden before turning into a residential block.
They were nearing the heart of the underground complex. To survive, the remaining Deep Ones had been forced to drain all the saltwater; vast patches of white salt stains climbed across the building exteriors like a spreading blight.
They encountered a single Deep One on the path. It didn’t last a second before being instantly annihilated in a flash of witchcraft. They pressed on, navigating the winding corridors until they reached a tunnel leading into a specific structure.
The tunnel was immense, resembling a mezzanine between floors. From deep within came a soul-shaking vibration and the long, rhythmic clanging of mechanical rods.
At the end of the tunnel, a massive metal door blocked their path.
Wang Yue produced a bronze keycard. She had taken it from the neck of a Deep One Elder—along with his head.
She slid the card into the slot, turned the handwheel, and hauled the iron hatch open.
A Deep One stood right on the other side, its dead-fish eyes bulging as it stared blankly at the three young girls. Before it could even catch the scent of the children, it was dissolved by witchcraft. Only its fish head remained, landing upright on the floor to gaze forever at the “stars” above.
Wang Yue hadn’t explored this specific area yet. A quick glance revealed it spanned two or three levels, with stairs leading down to a basement.
Her Crow Sentinels fanned out, their piercing vision scanning the floors. After a thorough sweep, they confirmed there were no other guards.
Wang Yue walked straight toward the room housing the Reincarnation Machine.
An invisible, giant hand seized the reinforced iron door—which sat half a foot thick—and tore it outward. The steel plating buckled and deformed, rivets popped, and bolts groaned under the impossible strain before snapping one by one.
Finally, with a thunderous crash, the door was hurled aside, embedding itself halfway into the opposite wall.
Wang Yue stepped inside, wand in hand. Before her stood a gargantuan, transparent storage tank, secured at the top and bottom by alloy frames and connected to a labyrinth of pipes.
Countless pipes snaked across the room, twisting and crawling like a nest of serpents to occupy most of the ceiling and floor.
The storage tank was filled with a deep blue liquid. Within it, strands of white strings vibrated and coiled, emitting a hazy, ethereal glow.
“This is…”
Lilith’s eyes widened. Her intuition was the sharpest of the group, and she immediately felt a surging, vigorous aura of life.
“This is the basic unit of a deconstructed human body,” Wang Yue explained. “Dagon studied the Star Stone Tablet left by the Source of All Things, Ubbo-Sathla, and grasped a portion of the ‘Primordial’ Rules. He used these rules to break humans down. Unfortunately for the Deep Ones, human units serve no purpose other than acting as Cups or offerings.”
Wang Yue looked toward the Control Console of the Reincarnation Machine. Inside a sealed glass sphere, a ball of pure white light floated.
From the outside, it looked like a holographic projection of a deformed, glowing white embryo.
It was curled up, appearing part-rat and part-fish. Where the eyes should have been were strange voids, and the umbilical cord branched out into tiny, silk-like tentacles that wrapped around its entire body.
On a microscopic level, its structure consisted of incredibly fine white symbols forming a double-helix gene-chain. These symbols were intertwined in an impossibly complex manner, creating a construct that looked chaotic yet followed a mysterious order—divine and eldritch all at once.
This was the Primordial Rule Construct.
Wang Yue felt her throat go dry. If the rules she had encountered before were like spells, the “Genetic Key” before her transcended that category entirely. This was the domain of a Creator.
It was exactly what one would expect from Ubbo-Sathla, the Outer God who was the beginning and the end of all life, the progenitor of all things.
Lilith and Medeili had no experience dealing with Rule Constructs, so they stood obediently to the side, watching Wang Yue’s every move and learning intently.
Wang Yue monitored the gauges with caution. Based on the data, this construct produced almost zero pollution. The knowledge recorded within the Key of the Elder Gods was “Truth”—it was too correct, too pure.
Using her mana, she carefully lifted the Primordial Rule and stored it within her own heart, which had been modified by her magic.
Mana was a high-level energy, granting her the right to touch Rule Constructs. If one were to try and grab it with bare hands, they would simply pass through the illusory light.
“How is it?” Medeili asked worriedly.
Wang Yue furrowed her brows. It was a strange sensation. She opened her palm; it felt as though she had gained an incredibly complex tool.
It was like someone touching a computer for the first time—marveling at a sophisticated, mind-boggling piece of technology while simultaneously being desperate to try it out.
Once she grew familiar with it, Wang Yue channeled the Power of Rules. Her fingers elongated and sharpened into soft yet piercing long cones that glowed with a faint, translucent white light.
With a flick of her finger, several white strings from the storage tank flew toward her. Her conical fingers moved rapidly, using the life-fibers as a base to gradually weave a shape. When she finished, she was holding the perfect model of a human ear!
However, to fill it in and create a real, living ear, she would need far more life-fibers.
The two onlookers were speechless with shock.
Lilith, in particular, was breathing heavily, her chest heaving. Her beautiful eyes were rimmed with red, shimmering with tears as she gazed at Wang Yue. Her voice trembled as she asked, “Then… then Prima can be woven back together, can’t she?”
“That’s right. But I’m not a very fast ‘Weaver Girl.’ I expect it’ll take many days of weaving to finish her. I’ll use her for practice!” Wang Yue said with a smile.
“That’s wonderful… that’s just wonderful…”
Lilith threw herself into Wang Yue’s arms, hugging her tightly. The massive boulder that had weighed on her heart for so many days finally shattered. Her very body felt light, as if she were about to float away.
There was no crying, no outward burst of joy; her emotions were simply settling into a profound calm.
To her, there was no one and nothing left in this world to care about other than the black-haired girl she held in her arms.
Then, Lilith abruptly pushed Wang Yue away, taking two steps back as if trying to break an addiction.
The “excuse” for the hug was over; if it lasted any longer, Medeili would get angry.
Medeili stood with her neck stiff, watching tensely. Only when Lilith released Wang Yue did she finally relax.
While it was common for a powerful Witch to have many little witches, Medeili wasn’t ready to share just yet.
But the work wasn’t over. Wang Yue took out a test tube and drew the life-fibers from the giant glass tank into it.
After collecting all the fibers, Wang Yue stored the tube and headed to the basement to release all the Cups stored there.
Explaining everything to hundreds of girls in a short time wasn’t easy, so Wang Yue simply brought out her shakuhachi. She used a Transcendent Melody to guide them.
And so, a strange procession appeared in the city of the Deep Ones.
Leading them was an exquisite, black-haired girl with a serious expression, her lips pressed to the flute. Behind her, a long line of “silent lambs” followed in perfect order. To the ancient, sorrowful melody of the shakuhachi, the line marched out of the Reincarnation Center, passed through the abandoned Theater, and moved through the Meditation Chamber, walking right past Dagon’s corpse.
The Shoggoth in the Meditation Chamber was a creation of the Primordial Rule; Wang Yue was now its new master.
Knowing its habit of betrayal, Wang Yue simply decomposed the Shoggoth on the spot. From its remains, she extracted a mass of gray, sludge-like tissue—the cells of Ubbo-Sathla.
Wang Yue continued forward like a shepherd leading her flock. They passed one grotesque, bizarre altar after another, eventually reaching the Hatchery, where the final “lambs” joined the procession…
***
The Academy.
Room 204.
Mapeel carried a basin of water to the door; she had just finished washing her sister’s body.
She stopped and turned to look at the wish notes pinned to the wall.
Get well soon, Prima!
Praying for you, cute and strong Prima. You’ll get through this!
I hope to see the blush return to your cheeks soon.
We’re all waiting for you!
…
Reading these words of encouragement and hope only made Mapeel feel worse.
This wasn’t a sickness. There was no medicine to cure this. Some things, once lost, could never be recovered.
Furthermore, the side effects of the potions were starting to manifest. While they sustained Prima’s life, they were also damaging what little healthy tissue she had left.
How much longer did her sister have? Even if she lived, she was merely existing. The smile fixed on Prima’s face felt like a blade, carving into Mapeel’s heart over and over until it bled.
In a daze, Mapeel thought she saw a familiar black-haired girl striding toward her. Her grip loosened, and the water basin crashed to the floor.
