Gun of Ashes

The storm devoured the fleet, accompanied by rain and thunder, like thousands of crows, circling mournfully in the gray clouds, mourning death.

”So...”

The Plague Doctor’s voice echoed.

”The ultimate goal of both ’Ascension’ and ’Evolution’ is ’Ascension’, to transcend into some unknown, greater existence; the only difference is the method of achieving this purpose.”

The cabin shook violently, but the Plague Doctor’s figure remained as steady as a rock, his hands unaffected, precisely cutting the flesh beneath him.

Each incision brought about a deep moan, followed by more blood splattering onto the surgical table.

This was indeed a good opportunity. The Plague Doctor preferred such weather. It looked terrible, yet in this environment, he could deeply appreciate the grandeur of the world.

This world is far more magnificent and beautiful than what meets the eye.

”So what does the end of ’Ascension’ truly look like?”

The Plague Doctor murmured softly, alone in the cabin, save for the dying creature beneath him, barely qualifying as human.

Most of the creature’s body had been replaced by countless Demon flesh; inside the opened chest cavity were also writhing, eerie scarlet organs. The infusion stand was draped with blood bags, containing diluted, inferior Secret Blood, to sustain the creature’s life in such a near-death state.

”Ah... it’s so complicated.”

The Plague Doctor couldn’t figure it out; it was a strange paradox, like how a person cannot know what they do not know, cannot imagine colors they have yet to perceive.

Due to his ignorance of ’Ascension’, the Plague Doctor had been troubled for a long time, unable to illustrate the mysterious scene in his mind.

The body beneath emitted rapid breaths, the heart inside the chest cavity thumping violently, accompanied by coughing blood.

”What’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

The Plague Doctor tucked away his thoughts and asked with concern.

Ideas are always just ideas; only practice can find the Truth. The Plague Doctor did not know what the end of ’Ascension’ would look like, so all he could do was conduct experiments based on his ideas, to verify unknown existence.

The creature on the operating table let out painful gasps; it seemed to be dying, struggling intensely, tightening its shackles. Blood bags visibly shrank rapidly, as the Secret Blood was drawn out by this body.

”Out of control? Did the balance of flesh weight break, or were you completely consumed?”

The Plague Doctor showed no signs of tension; he seemed to have faced this situation many times. The lights flickered, illuminating the deeper parts of the cabin, where countless grotesque, mutated bodies piled up, the flowing blood congealed on the floor, hollow eyes scattered lifelessly.

”Still have self-awareness?”

The creature struggled fiercely, death’s threat stimulated primal instincts. The Plague Doctor pried open its eyelids, carefully observing the pupils gradually dissolving.

Mortal will began to collapse, inside out, completely turned into a dark, murky soul.

”You’re being consumed into a Demon, indeed... Not everyone possesses a strong enough will to sustain until the end of the surgery.”

The Plague Doctor shook his head in disappointment.

He was uncertain what the end of ’Evolution’ would look like. The Plague Doctor tried to replicate his own surgery on human bodies, possessing far superior skills and resources at the time, but overlooked the greatest aspect.

Willpower.

These specimens did not have the same strong will as himself, easily giving up under these painful torments and erosion, succumbing to Demons.

”Never mind, can’t waste it.”

The Plague Doctor grumbled, increasing the dose of inferior Secret Blood. The body began expanding, resilient muscles proliferating unceasingly, protruding alongside bones, sharp fangs breaking through oral cavity, unrestrained vitality began growing wildly.

The shackled cuffs started trembling, as if the Demon on the operating table would break free the next second.

”Don’t rush, don’t rush.”

The Plague Doctor put down the scalpel, picked up a hammer and long nails, driving sharp steel into the Demon’s joints, using a bloody method to restrain its agitation. The long nail’s end had sturdy chains for connection, wrapped around its body incessantly; the more struggle, the tighter the bind.

”The rest is up to you.”

The Plague Doctor looked aside, seeing the soldiers already waiting there.

They skillfully dragged the Demon off the operating table, leaving a long blood trail, out of the cabin.

”Wait, you stay.”

The Plague Doctor singled out a soldier whose movements were somewhat stiff, yet still obediently stopped his actions, then the Plague Doctor said.

”Lie down.”

He made way, revealing the surgery table stained with filthy blood and scratches.

The departing soldiers dragged the Demon all the way to the deepest part of the ship, stopping before a gate, milky white gas seeped from its cracks. The soldiers opened the gate, revealing a cabin covered in frost, liquid nitrogen transported through pipes, continuously cooling the cabin.

The soldiers threw the Demon into the darkness below; this low temperature wouldn’t kill it, but would reduce its activity.

The Demon was caught by something, a frosted arm, followed by more arms reaching out, ghastly hideous remains slowly moving, pressed onto it.

It was another Demon.

Beneath this darkness, there were countless Demons, all discarded products of the Plague Doctor’s experiments, bound by heavy chains, breathing slowly, accumulating into a mountain.