Splatters of crimson sprayed around with a harsh crunch. Blood found its way to a nearby chalkboard out of the many. One of the chalkboards was draped in a bottomless well of theories and rune combinations.

  A woman’s corpse lay bare on the table. The movements of Zeta’s hand stayed precise with a thin, jagged knife that was fresh with blood. He carved deeper into the corpse's anatomy, his free hand digging around and pulling out fresh intestines.

  “Fascinating…” Zeta muttered, his red gaze shining at the corpse.

  He looked at the copious amounts of blood smeared on the back of his hand, dragging his tongue across it. Zeta swirled the taste around in his mouth before swallowing, his eyes responding with a red, vibrant shimmer.

  “But, this isn't enough… I need more.”

  Zeta's skin was pearly white—artificial almost. Blood soaked deeply into the wood of the table, the smell and taste of iron merging with the scent of oil and rust emanating from a gadget on the ground. Zeta stepped away from the table, kneeling towards the circular, metallic gadget. His silver-colored veins flexed, snatching it off the ground.

  Walking back over to the corpse, he stuffed the metallic spiral inside the woman's anatomy, tilting his head.

  “Yes, this should work…” Zeta began to redistribute the organs inside the corpse.

  He emitted mana from his fingertips, folding the large incisions and sealing the corpse’s abdomen together, leaving behind blue-colored stitching. Zeta stared expectantly at the corpse for several minutes, his eyes narrowing.

  “Damn it, it’s not working!” His hand pounded into the table.

  “How could this be?...” Pacing around the room, he kicked over stacks of books, heading to the nearby chalkboard, looking over the hundreds of rune combinations. In the deafening silence, Zeta could hear knocking coming from upstairs. He exited his lab, walked up the stairs, and answered the door.

  “How may I help you at this time of night?” Zeta asked.

  The two men at the door immediately took notice of Zeta’s blood-soaked appearance. They were with the Institute of Thaumaturgy.

  “Zeta, was it? What are you doing? Are you okay?” One man asked, while the other continued to stare at his chest area.

  “Me? I’m fine. Just… Doing a little research with dyes.” His crimson gaze flared.

  “That looks and doesn’t smell like dye, Zeta. Last night, the four heads of approval were found dead and dismembered in various locations around Leviara. You were one of the people who interacted with them not long before their deaths, which makes you a suspect.” The man said.

  “Suspect? Would you look at him? He’s definitely done it, that’s the smell of blood on him!” The other man reached for something in his coat.

  “Want me to be honest?...” Zeta spoke low, his eyes focusing on them.

  The two men leaned in, the other keeping his hand inside his jacket.

  Zeta’s hands loosened, his jaw clenching and vigor forming in his eyes.

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  “I was gonna tell you a lie and a sob story.” He said.

  The first man narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows, while the other man’s eyes widened.

  “Now, I think I’ve found myself two more to test on.” A sea of dark, fleshy, large tendrils emerged from his back, wrapping the men up into cocoons and dragging them inside. The tendrils were cold and moved like an extra set of limbs. The men screamed at the top of their lungs, but their efforts were nullified—barely a muffle escaped.

  Later that night, Zeta went into The Silent Expanse. Most would feel unease from the total silence, but Zeta found solace in it. The only sound was his clothes brushing together, while his blood-red eyes cut through the smog of the forest, marking every tree. He went off-trail, weaving through bushes and ducking underneath branches until he saw the entrance of a cave. He strode towards it and entered, being consumed by the darkness of the cave. There was nothing—it felt like walking on air. Zeta couldn’t see the ground or the cavern walls, but he felt a force of something urging him on—telling his body to keep going forward. His surroundings distorted, the shadows that smoldered him stretched out—the coldness of the cave being obfuscated by warmth. His stomach lurched—he thought he was falling endlessly into a void until a bright light blasted his senses.

  He found himself on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Sweat trailed down his face and onto the elegant flooring of decorative white tiles.

  “Human… Do try not to grovel on my marvelous flooring, yes?” The old-fashioned voice of a woman called out to him.

  Zeta looked up to see a white-haired woman sitting on a throne. She wore a pure white dress that was perfectly smooth—there wasn’t a crease or undesirable fold present, and her hair was absurdly long with accents of purple.

  The woman floated out of the throne, drifting towards Zeta with her hands folded behind her back.

  “Do you know where you are?” She asked

  “No, I don’t. But I know what you are.” Zeta replied.

  “Oh, good! I’m glad you know what I am, because I knew it would come to this eventually.” She said.

  “How could you know that?” Zeta sat on the ground, looking up at the woman.

  Her hair floated around her like it was alive, her purple-colored eyes boring into his.

  “Our paths were inevitably going to cross. Your desires are not achievable. Instead, they must be created.” She said.

  “You don’t understand anything about my desires, entity,” Zeta said.

  “Oh, but I do. They tell me more about you than you realize. Perfection cannot be achieved, even by me. Regardless, I can provide you with the tools to create your ideal vision. In exchange, you’ll bring me a sacrifice.” The woman said.

  “A sacrifice? Could you be more specific?” Zeta asked.

  “Someone youthful… Their youth sustains the cycle.” She floated around the space, her hair flowing behind her.

  “Sustains the cycle?...” Zeta said.

  “Yes. If you have any more questions, I’ll just take you as a sacrifice instead. Goodbye, Zeta. Don’t come back unless you’ve brought them.”

  With a snap of her fingers, Zeta’s surroundings began to shift back into the darkness of the cave.