Upon arriving at the dugout, Karen collapsed as if his last ounce of strength had evaporated. Tirn hurriedly dragged him inside, offered him the remaining water, and organized their surroundings. Parched with an extreme thirst, Karen gulped the water down. After drinking too much too quickly, he retched slightly, vomiting a few mouthfuls, before falling into a state so motionless it was impossible to tell if he was unconscious or dead.

  Tirn quietly approached him to check his vital signs. Fortunately, his heart was beating, and he was breathing on his own. When she checked his back, she saw red spots spreading across his transparent skin. She initially thought they were heat burns, but something was eerie. Normally, a Garenian’s skin—especially burns—would have begun to heal by now, yet these marks seemed to be expanding. Furthermore, the spots didn't appear to be on the surface; they seemed to be seeping out from deep within the flesh. Lacking professional medical knowledge beyond basic first aid, Tirn laid him down, believing this unfamiliar wound would heal within a week. No other unusual trauma was visible.

  She couldn't even guess what had made him this way. However, knowing it was impossible for her to carry a man heavier than herself and escape, she decided it was best to recover their strength here until there were signs of a large-scale search.

  She quietly observed the events unfolding at the facility. Due to the explosions and subsequent detonations she had triggered, the circular accelerator facility appeared to have lost all functionality. Fire engines and various combat engineering vehicles, seemingly from the military, were busily moving in and out.

  What stood out was the "impact point" of the 'q' shape—the very place Karen had infiltrated—which was severely damaged. For reasons unknown, people were frantically spraying water on it, and from that spot, a light of an indiscernible color was visible. It was not the reflected light of Luni.

  It was bright and transparent, yet possessed a color that defied description.

  It looked as if it were rising from underwater, or perhaps as if the air itself were glowing.

  Tirn felt a primal terror emanating from that light.

  Rilke woke up in a bed. He looked around. This was not the medical bay within the facility; it appeared to be a hospital in Yonic. Pardin and Pollack were beside him. He recalled the events of yesterday. It seemed he had lost consciousness after being struck by that impossible mass of light density.

  Seeing that he had awakened, the nurse went to call the doctor. The slight commotion seemed to wake Pollack and Pardin as well. The doctor arrived accompanied by several men in military uniforms. The sight of the uniforms brought reality crashing back into Rilke’s mind.

  "How is your physical condition?" the doctor asked.

  "My vision is still flickering, as if an afterimage of yesterday's light remains," Rilke replied.

  "Aside from some minor burns, there appear to be no unusual external injuries. We need blood work and several other tests."

  The doctor quietly made notes on the chart.

  "Then, may we speak with them about the incident for a moment?" one of the soldiers asked the doctor. The doctor nodded silently and held up five fingers.

  "That will be enough," the soldier replied.

  "Is this a disciplinary hearing? Or an inspection?" Rilke asked after the doctor had left. The soldier pulled a chair next to the bed, sat down, and opened a notebook.

  "For now, it is an accident investigation. A report has already reached the Chancellor."

  Rilke nodded silently. "What were the results of the experiment?"

  The soldier paused at the question before answering. "My apologies. I asked a rather cold question given the circumstances."

  Rilke moistened his lips before responding. "No. I was merely thinking about which perspective I should use to evaluate the experiment. If it is from the perspective of the Chancellor’s administration, I would call it a success."

  The soldier perked up his ears, looking at Rilke with surprise.

  "We liberated an immense amount of light and heat. From that perspective, it was undoubtedly a success. However, we failed to control it. That was the result of yesterday," Rilke added. The soldier nodded and took notes, seemingly understanding.

  "Then, could you briefly describe the situation at that moment?"

  Rilke explained everything in order, from the impact to the moment he saw the light.

  "We will conclude the initial investigation here for now. Please be aware that additional questioning may be required."

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  Rilke gave a simple nod. He knew all too well that this was not the end, but the beginning. After the soldier left, the doctor returned for a brief check-up and drew blood for testing. Perhaps thanks to the sleep, Rilke felt somewhat revitalized. He turned to the awakened Pollack and Pardin.

  "I imagine you two felt it as well. That taste of iron in the mouth and the sound ringing inside the head. It clearly wasn't something felt through the ears."

  "So I wasn't the only one. I thought it was just sensory confusion from the explosion..." Pardin mused to himself.

  "That aside, energy that melts a tungsten plate in an instant... I never imagined such a thing," Pollack said, appearing somewhat shaken.

  "Pollack, there's no need to be so disappointed. We don't know how much the Disc-Senders knew or how they came to know it. Therefore, even if we prepare for the risks we know, there are bound to be parts beyond our control. As I said before, we have lived our lives in the warmth of long wavelengths. But what hit our eyes yesterday were likely fragments of extremely short and sharp wavelengths that we have never seen in our lives. Our eyes cannot register them as color; they only remember them as a 'tearing brightness'."

  Rilke comforted Pollack.

  "But the problem is something else. I believe something other than light and heat was emitted there. Our bodies detected it. The taste of iron and the ringing in our heads are the evidence."

  Pardin smacked his lips bitterly. Then, Pollack suddenly remembered something.

  "If that’s the case, then that 'something' must have had a profound impact on our bodies."

  The three men trembled at those words. It was a thought that had been circling in all their minds, yet none had dared to voice it. They had tried to dismiss it as mere fear of the unknown.

  "We are still fine for now. I don't think there's a need to think so pessimistically," Rilke said, trying to swallow his own fear.

  "No. We have already suffered severe damage," Pollack countered.

  "If you look at your hands and chests, there are burn marks. For us, skin damage—especially burns—usually heals quickly. A day or two is normally enough."

  Pardin nodded. "That’s the evolutionary pressure we adapted to in a high-temperature environment..."

  "But look at your hands. The burns from yesterday remain exactly as they were. Our skin's regenerative ability has already plummeted."

  Pollack’s hand trembled slightly.

  "We shouldn't jump to conclusions. It’s only been a day. We don't know exactly how much damage was done while we were unconscious."

  "No. I know for certain. When the projectile collided, I fell from the impact. There is a stark difference between the areas exposed to the light of the projectile and those that weren't. Look."

  Pollack held up both his hands. His right hand, which had pressed the fire button, was clearly marked with burns, but his left hand was almost healed. Each of them looked at their own burns. It was undeniable that the recovery speed was significantly delayed.

  "Then it means that 'something' damaged our ability to recover. Whether that's permanent or not is another matter..." Rilke rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.

  "According to the Disc-Sender data, the two formulas complement each other. The constant speed of light through the integrated electromagnetic formula, and the mass-energy equivalence using that constant speed. In other words, nothing should be emitted other than heat and light," Pardin, the mathematician, stated his view.

  "If you only look at the energy, that's true. But at temperatures that melt tungsten instantly, we must consider the possibility that the forces binding atoms, electrons, or even neutrons within the nucleus were severed, causing them to fly out randomly."

  Pollack paused to catch his breath and choose his words carefully. It felt slightly awkward to state his new views on the atom in front of two scholars.

  "And what if they passed through our bodies with terrifying force? As if millions of invisible bullets were shot through us..."

  Rilke repeated the thought quietly. What kind of medical or biological impact that would have was beyond his field of study, making it difficult to imagine. It was an explanation Pardin couldn't quite grasp either, yet he couldn't think of a counterargument. Silence fell.

  Urgent footsteps were heard in the hallway. The door burst open, and the doctor from before entered with two nurses. His face was a mask of bewilderment.

  "I’m sorry, but we need to re-sample your blood."

  "What’s wrong? Why draw blood again?" Pardin questioned. It had been less than 10 cells since the last draw; this was highly unusual.

  "My apologies. It seems there was contamination during the sampling," the doctor said, looking extremely apologetic as he prepared to draw blood again. He watched the nurses intensely to ensure the process was done correctly. Rilke looked at the site of the previous draw; it was still stained red, the bleeding having not yet fully stopped. Seeing this, the doctor's expression turned suspicious.

  Rilke felt a sense of gravity from their expressions.

  "Will you be honest with me? What is the problem?" Rilke asked the doctor.

  "The oxygen carriers and immune cells were detected in a destroyed state. This is only possible in something like acute leukemia, but the specific symptoms don't match."

  "Does that mean the body's immune system has been destroyed?"

  "If that is true, the immune system is not the only problem. It means multiple organ failure could occur. However, you all seem fine right now. So I assume that isn't the case."

  The doctor watched the nursing staff draw the blood. As he saw the color of the blood being drawn, his expression grew grim.

  "I have not signed a military secrecy oath. But could you tell me what happened before you came to the hospital yesterday?" the doctor asked with a flushed face, the tips of his ears trembling slightly.

  "That is a matter I cannot answer. Tell us what the problem is first," Rilke replied calmly.

  "I’ll have to run the tests to be sure, but the color of your blood right now does not look normal. Even the viscosity and the speed at which it's coming out is strange."

  Rilke gave a silent nod. "Then please let us know when the results are in."

  Pollack spoke in Rilke's stead. Once the doctor left, Rilke let out a sigh.

  "Pollack, you were right. Congratulations. It seems you've found a new field of study," Rilke said with a bitter expression.

  "What do you mean?" Pollack asked.

  After a silence as if choosing his words, Rilke spoke.

  "Based on your reasoning... it means a new area of research regarding the atomic nucleus and its reactions has been born."

  Rilke sighed, his voice a mix of scholarly joy and deep regret.

  "And we have become the sacrificial offerings to begin that research."