My Talent's Name Is Generator

I found myself inside the laboratories where the Holts, their contractors, and associates had conducted their twisted experiments.

This place was made of steel and glass. The walls were smooth metal, painted white, but now they were cracked and stained with black soot and dried blood. The ceiling lights flickered, some hanging loose and broken. Now and then, sparks flew from wires sticking out of the walls.

The floor under my feet was smooth, not like the rough stone outside. It was covered in tiles with a light bluish shine, though some spots were burned or dented from falling debris. Above me, the ceiling creaked now and then, a reminder that the chaos upstairs hadn't stopped yet.

I reached out with my senses and counted. Nineteen large halls lay ahead, each leading to a separate lab. Every lab felt like its own hidden room, with its own walls, its own lights, and its own dark past.

I walked into the first one.

The room was quiet. No machines were running, no lights flashing, just a steady red glow from the corners of the walls.

But the setup was still clear. Surgical tables stood in the center, some with burned or broken restraints. Robotic arms hung from the ceiling like metal spiders. A few had fallen and were sparking on the floor.

In one corner, a half-decayed body, once a man and now mostly bones, was still strapped into a harness. Tubes ran from his chest into cracked containers filled with thick, dark sludge.

The next hall was worse.

This one had a Naga. Or what used to be one. Its long snake-like body had been split and clumsily stitched together with what looked like wolf limbs.

Its upper body twitched now and then, just leftover reflexes. Its eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, but they didn't react when I got closer. Frozen in its final moment. Silent. Mutilated.

I kept walking.

In the fifth and sixth labs, I found huge cylindrical pods, each built for creatures at least thirty feet tall. Two were open. Broken glass was scattered across the floor.

In the middle lay Abominations. They hadn't been let out, they had simply failed. Their bodies were swollen, their limbs stitched in random places.

One had what looked like a second torso growing from its back. Its jaw hung open unnaturally. There were signs of something bursting from the inside, like whatever had been put in them fought its way back out.

But the real answer came in labs eleven and twelve.

I paused.

In the middle of each room stood a large reinforced container made of thick glass, eight feet high and ten across. Inside them churned something familiar and unnatural.

Deathmist.

It moved like a living thing. A liquid shadow, constantly shifting, folding, clawing at the walls of its prison. The glass vibrated with every thump. I could feel it reaching, even from here. It thrashed violently for a few seconds before calming… and then doing it again.

There were tubes connected to the containers. Leading into restraints. Into body-sized vats. Most of those were shattered. But I could tell what had been happening.

They were trying to inject it.

Not just store the Deathmist. Not just contain it.

Fuse it.

Make it a part of the Abominations. Part of living things. The failed experiments I'd seen earlier, were the trials. But these last few containers….these were the real deal.

They had gotten close. I didn't know what the next phase was meant to be, but I could tell they hadn't finished. Maybe something interrupted them. Maybe even I had.

I stood there in silence, watching the Deathmist rage inside its glass coffin.

I reached out with my mind, sending a silent call to Lyrate.

'There's something here you need to see. The deathmist in these labs, it feels like the same kind Azalea captured in the Phantom.'

I paused, scanning the broken pods and the thick, dark sludge leaking from the cracked containers.

'It could be connected to you. Come quickly.'

Moments later, a swirl of crimson mist flowed into the lab beside me, and Lyrate emerged from it.

Her eyes immediately fixed on the swirling black mist that clung to the broken containers like living shadows. The faint glow of her presence seemed to pull at the darkness, drawing her closer.

Without hesitation, she moved forward. With a sharp motion, she shattered the first container, and thick Deathmist hissed out like smoke escaping a broken pipe.

The shadows swirled violently, twisting and writhing as if alive, then lunged at me with a furious speed.

I stood still, watching the Deathmist rush toward me. It moved with hunger, dark tendrils reaching for me, trying to choke the life out of my Essence.

Lyrate raised her hand smoothly. Crimson mist, vibrant and alive, burst forth, flowing from her fingers like liquid fire. The dark Deathmist collided with the crimson cloud, and for a moment, the air trembled with the fierce clash.

Then the crimson mist surged, engulfing the black shadows with a roaring hunger. The Deathmist screamed silently, writhing under the red flame as it was drawn in, consumed utterly. The shadows vanished, leaving only faint wisps before fading completely.

I immediately felt something shift inside Lyrate. Without leveling up even once, she had grown stronger, at least ten percent.

At level 199, that kind of boost was huge, and it caught me completely off guard. My eyes widened in surprise as I realized just how much power she had gained.

She moved toward the second and final container, ready to repeat what she'd just done. But I stopped her before she could break it open.

"Wait," I said firmly.

Lyrate froze, her hand hovering over the glass. She turned and looked at me with curious eyes, waiting for an explanation.

My mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything. I could feel the strange familiarity of this Deathmist, this dark, swirling shadow, it was the same kind that Azalea had fought, the same Deathmist connected to Lyrate's soul.

That connection was probably why she was able to devour the first fragment so easily, with such control and strength.

But then another thought struck me. If Lyrate's soul could handle this Deathmist, what about my other summons? Could they do the same? Could they also fight or absorb this dark force?

I quickly made a decision.

"Go back to the chamber where Knight is guarding," I said. "Send him here, immediately."

Lyrate tilted her head, staring at me for a moment, as if weighing my words. Then, without a sound, her body began to dissolve into a swirl of crimson mist.

Within seconds, she had vanished from the lab, rushing off to carry out my command.

I stood alone in the quiet room, my mind buzzing with new possibilities. If my summons could handle the Deathmist, then hunting Phantoms might not just be a necessity, it could become an opportunity. A way for my summons to grow stronger by devouring them.

Few seconds later, dark shadows swirled beside me, and Knight stepped out from them.

Just like Lyrate, his eyes were instantly drawn to the Deathmist inside the final container. He didn't say a word, but his body spoke for him, his stance shifted, muscles tightening, and a low growl rumbled from his throat.

Unlike Lyrate, Knight didn't show interest or hunger. He showed caution. I could feel it clearly, the sense of threat, the tension in his presence. Where Lyrate had been calm and in control, Knight felt like he was standing in front of something dangerous.

"Ohhh…" I muttered, as the realization clicked into place.

"So it can devour you too." My eyes narrowed as I spoke the words out loud.

I had gotten excited too early.

I thought my summons could feed on the Phantoms freely, gaining power with no risk. But now I saw the other side of it, if they could consume the Deathmist, then the Deathmist could likely consume them too. It went both ways.

And maybe that danger hadn't shown up before because my summons were at lower levels. Their connection to the Deathmist had been weak, their abilities underdeveloped.

But now? Now that they were stronger, maybe they were starting to unlock something more, an instinct to absorb or resist, maybe even something deeper. The more they grew, the more this connection might evolve, and with it, new powers might emerge. Or new risks.

I glanced at Knight again. He hadn't moved, still staring at the mist, still tense.

I smiled slightly and stepped closer to him, reaching out to gently pat his head.

"It's okay," I said in a calm voice. "I'm here. Go ahead and devour it. Think of it as your reward, for all the hard work you've done."

His eyes shifted from the container to meet mine. For a brief moment, something softened in his gaze, and I felt the tension in his body ease just a little.

Then, without warning, the shadows around him began to churn and swirl with new energy.

Two sharp, spiked tendrils burst out from the darkness at his back and shot straight toward the container. The glass shattered on impact, the sound sharp and sudden in the quiet room.

Inside, the Deathmist stirred violently, just like before. The moment it was free, it twisted and turned, then lunged straight at me, as if it had been waiting for a target.