81. Interlude: Workaholic (II)

Karyl looked up and saw a row of infant corpses hanging from above.

He was standing at the very back of an unbearably hot processing workshop. Tools of every kind lay scattered across the floor, the furnaces had gone cold, and the heavy armored doors stood wide open like a drunkard's clothes.

The workers stood outside the doors, talking in hushed voices. They did not understand why an Inquisitor had come here, but they were clever. No—perhaps clever was not the right word. Wise was better.

Only those accustomed to working with bent backs and hunched shoulders possessed such wisdom. Whenever a storm approached, they were always the first to sense it—just as they had now.

Karyl removed his wide-brimmed hat, pinched its edge between his fingers, and raised his index finger to stroke the emblem of the Inquisition.

The tiny victims were naked from head to toe, their skin swollen and pale. Their blood had been drained, their organs hollowed out, and their skulls expertly pierced before they were hung in a narrow, dark corner between the machines, then concealed behind two crates of parts and toolboxes.

It was a crude cover-up, but in a place as hot and busy as a processing workshop, it was more than enough.

Karyl's index finger began tapping against the hat badge. Tap, tap, tap.

About seven or eight minutes later, a Silent Guard led a woman into the workshop and pressed the button to close the doors.

The woman was powerfully built, with broad shoulders and a light-blue uniform that was far from clean. The emblem of Steel Ellis First Steel Processing Plant gleamed silver on the right side of her chest.

This was an old factory, founded by a man named Steel Ellis on Fortress 175 in the middle of the