The discovery of a secret tunnel provided Glavas with a much-needed momentary distraction. He loved his job but still had to admit that from time to time, certain assignments were rather boring. Waiting for the Humis to show up and get the bait was certainly one of them. But a thing that always brought him a guaranteed dose of joy was the idea of exploration. When he was younger, he would venture into all sorts of caves and ruins he could find, often ignoring the dangers of such places and sometimes paying the price. However, as he grew older, the world seemed less and less exciting. Caves all started to look the same, old ruins were just full of junk, and anything even remotely dangerous often turned out to be a trivial matter for someone as skilled as Glavas the hunter. So when the secret passage revealed itself in front of him, for a moment, he forgot about how bad his life felt at the time.

The corridor was long and narrow. Glowing rocks were similarly illuminating the place as the ones he saw in the streets. For a moment, he found himself excited at the idea of popping up somewhere inside the palace and scaring the daylights out of a servant or two, but the further he went, the more he started to realize that wherever the tunnel lead, it surely wasn't into the royal palace. It kept on leading him in a straight line, which eventually meant that he was going away from the monarch's place and further towards the center of the city. At that point, the excitement of his discovery soon turned into worries and unease, but the moment he spotted an exit in front of him, a simple explanation offered itself, just in time to ease his mind.

Glavas exited the tunnel and looked around. The entire place seemed like a big room full of spare parts. The elven hunter immediately knew what they were used for. He recalled seeing such massive chunks of metal around the golems. Their entire bodies were clad in steel. The huge racks and hangers around him were used to hold the armor before it would be installed onto the golem. Now it all finally made sense. Naturally, the golem-making process would be one of Rotler's most well-protected secrets. Hiding the place where they were being made deep underground and only assigning several secret entrances seemed only logical. Glavas let out a sigh of relief and looked around. Only one exit door led out of the room. It did not bother the hunter whether or not he would be found. In that case, he could always claim that he was chasing a Humi or two, or that he simply got lost. The people of the town were friendly enough, so he believed that him finding his way inside wouldn't be that big of a deal.

A pair of muttering voices came from somewhere outside the room. At first, Glavas instinctively hid behind some of the parts, but when he heard the two men going elsewhere, he peeked out again. His mind had long decided on one thing - to keep himself distracted, he is going to have a look at how a golem is made. He did not care if it was confidential or not. The excitement was something he longed for and the otherwise-present sadness was pushing him closer toward reckless and potentially even dangerous decisions.

The elf snuck out of the room and walked through a long corridor, ignoring all other doors around him and following the two voices until they became loud enough for him to understand.

"Should I do it?"

"I did it last time."

"Fine, but you take one of the other ones."

"You know I hate the sound."

"I don't enjoy it either, but man up. Rotler is depending on us."

Glavas' eagerness to see what was going on kept growing. He saw a half-open door at the end of the hallway and judging from the noise, the two men were most definitely there. He crept on closer until his heart sank into his stomach.

"Aaaa... Ugh..."

He heard a very short, high-pitched yell, followed by a loud sigh, after which everything turned quiet. That alone would be rather disturbing, but there was one other factor that caught the hunter off guard. He knew the voice. The brief scream he just heard was soft and he remembered it from earlier - the voice of the blind child from the orphanage. But here? Why would he be here? The hair on the back of his neck stood up. His instincts were telling him that something was not alright. Suddenly, the excitement was replaced by a slowly creeping dread.

Glavas carefully tiptoed closer to the door and peeked inside. Chills ran down his spine. He saw two men in guards' armor standing in front of a kneeling golem. Almost all of its armor was already in place, except the missing chest plate. But the inside was different than anything he could imagine. The creature was composed of pretty much a pile of flesh, in the middle of which, half-buried inside the golem, lay Vix. He looked slightly different without his helmet, but Glavas was sure it was him. He was looking forward with eyes unblinking and devoid of life. His face was covered in strange symbols, and his arms and legs were sunken into the mass of flesh.

This was enough for Glavas to act. He kicked the door open, alerting both of the men, who were more than surprised when they heard such a ruckus. The hunter swung his fist at the first one, sending him dazed to the floor with just one devastating hit. The other, surprised by the sudden attack, threw himself at Glavas, only to be grabbed and tossed over the elf's shoulder and onto the hard and cold floor.

Once they were both taken care of, Glavas turned his attention toward the boy in the golem. He grabbed him by the shoulders and started pulling him out. The flesh of the creature was not giving, almost as if it fought back, pulling Vix further in. When it finally dawned on Glavas that it could not be resolved through strength alone, he turned his attention to the two guards, who were picking themselves up. He pulled his gun out and aimed it at them.

"What the fuck is this? What have you done to him?!"

The two raised their arms. "It's you, the hunter who came to visit."

"Answer me!"

"You can't help him now. It's over."

A vein popped out on Glavas's head as if all his anger had concentrated into that single point.

"You will tell me the answer, or I will make sure you will never tell anyone a single word ever again. What is your choice?" he spoke completely calmly and without blinking.

"We popped his soul. Even if you pull him out, you won't change a thing."

"You... You did what?"

"Look, I know this sounds really scary but..."

"No... No, this can't be real," he muttered when his eyes briefly looked to the left. Now that he was inside the room and no longer focused on a single object, his eyes landed on the rest of the equipment. Rows of chronospheres were lining the room. They were a very advanced type of magical artifact, which can hold an item... or a person, suspended out of time. Each of the spheres was about a meter and a half big in diameter and inside, Glavas saw people. Small people.

"There is no orphanage, is there?" he asked, with a voice that could barely be heard.

"We will explain everything, sir, please," one of the guards started.

Glavas scanned the children trapped in the spheres until his eyes landed on a pair he recognized far too well.

"Oh, you better do. Start explaining. Your lives depend on it."

"Shall I, then?" a familiar voice came from the entrance. Glavas turned around and noticed Ismaya greeting him from the doorway.

"You know about this?"

"Yes, and I congratulate you," she slowly clapped. "You found out about the secret. Just as I did during my investigation. Do you know what a golem needs to function?"

"Not this."

"Oh yes, this. It needs a battery. A powerful battery. And what more powerful battery is there than a soul? But a soul that is separated from a body is too... volatile. It would make the golems fragile. So, an alternative is done. The body is kept intact but the soul is popped, so to speak. It radiates energy but at a much weaker rate. This allows us to keep our golems functioning for decades with little maintenance needs."

"But... you use children..." he glanced back at Vix's lifeless stare.

"Yes. Their souls tend to be the purest. Is that such a bad thing? They are orphans. Did you know that almost twenty percent of all orphans in Ezma turn to crime or malicious activities? They are... problematic. Here, we allow their lives to have meaning. One that will be beneficial to our society."

"But you kill them!"

"Oh, not at all. There are... dreaming. Sort of. At the edge between life and death. You might see us as monsters, but trust me, this is all done very humanely. They do not suffer. At least... well, the popping of their soul is over very quickly. And then, they dream and think that they are alive in their own little perfect world. Isn't that wonderful?"

"You deny them everything. They can't live, but they can't cross over either. No life, no death, no afterlife even. They can't even be with their lost relatives."

Ismaya sighed. "It is only temporary. Once the golem expires, sooner or later, so will the child. Though judging from the face you're making, I assume you are not one to understand our cause, right?"

"You bet I'm not."

"What a shame. You seemed really friendly. Elven souls can't fuel golems. Your death will be a massive waste."

She drew her blade with a blinding speed. Glavas only barely managed to step away to avoid her quick left jab, which was most likely supposed to serve as a distraction, and then to move out of the way of the sword she aimed to thrust through his ribs. One thing was for certain, she was no joke. Her combat skills were most likely sharpened by the years she spent practicing with the blade. Nothing less was to be expected from the captain of the guards.

Glavas kept on dodging and backing away. Her style was refined and certainly focused on the fastest and most accurate slashes and stabs. Not a single one of them wouldn't be aimed at a vital organ. However, the longer Glavas kept on watching her dance with the sword, the more he began to understand. Should he slow her down first with his music? Or would his gun allow him to quickly knock the weapon out of her hand? Or what about his own weapons? Arming himself with a blade from his tattoo would certainly grant him an advantage. But once a few seconds have passed, a different idea came to Glavas' mind. She was the one orchestrating this. The children lured into the orphanage were most likely sent to a fate worse than death at her command. Although she was strong, she was a murderer with defenseless victims and with combat experience gained while fighting dummies instead of actual raiders or invaders. Glavas realized it rather easily - she was weak. Nothing was necessary. No weapons, no music, no gunshots. His bare hands were all he needed.

She approached him once again. He saw the blade approach his liver and within moments, her fate was sealed. The elven hunter moved out of the way and grabbed her wrist. The moment she felt his grip on the hand that was holding the sword, she instinctively looked down at it, not even noticing the fist that approached her left temple. Two parts of her body then suddenly screamed out in pain. One was her head, which had suffered an impact that left her dazed for several moments. The other was her right wrist, which had gotten so painfully twisted that it forced her to drop the weapon. By the time she fully realized what had happened, the elf was already grabbing her head and pushing it at an alarming speed towards one of the chronospheres, whose outer shells were made of glass and metal. A hollow *ding* resonated through the chamber. The impact stole all of her senses, and she fell to the floor with no further resistance. The two guards stood by the entrance, exchanging concerned expressions.

"You're lucky I have other things to do. Scram before I get to you." Both of them weren't going to test their fortune. Ismaya was insanely strong according to their standards and seeing her get bested so easily meant that they definitely wouldn't stand a chance. Glavas watched them run out of the room and then turned his attention to the children suspended in the chronospheres.

"Please, please, please, be alright," he muttered as he turned off the mechanism.