Deep within the Healing Brotherhood's homeworld, in the core of a laboratory with the highest level of biological containment, the atmosphere was as cold as a tomb.
Within the vast space, the only light shone on a massive cubic test chamber at its center, constructed from transparent, high-density composite material.
The chamber resembled an enormous display case—or, rather, a stage meticulously designed for observing the slaughter to come.
The air circulation system hummed low, filtering out every trace of danger that might escape, yet unable to filter out the inhuman indifference that permeated the air.
An airtight door on one side of the test chamber slid open, and dozens of naked human prisoners of war were herded inside.
They were Imperial crewmen or soldiers captured during the earlier war against the Imperium. Now, only the scars and grime of battle remained on their bodies, while their eyes brimmed with fear, humiliation, and a trace of anger not yet entirely extinguished.
In the Healing Brotherhood's terminology, they were contemptuously called "kindling."
The term meant expendable materials that could be thrown into the furnace called "science" at any moment, burned to obtain the necessary data.
The combat personnel escorting them were expressionless, their movements mechanical, as though they were transporting a pile of lifeless cargo.
The heavy airtight door locked firmly behind them with a click, separating the inside and outside into two worlds.
Outside the test chamber, a group of researchers in spotless white sterile suits stood quietly before the monitoring screens, as though attending an elegant concert.
At their head was the project director who had previously rushed into the palace to deliver the news.
His eyes were sharp, glittering with an almost fanatical excitement.
Beside him stood the Brotherhood's supreme leader. His face betrayed neither pleasure nor anger, only