Reincarnated Hero System

“Are those… baby cribs?”

He muttered, eyebrows knitting together.

Indeed, stretching out before them was an entire hall filled with cribs—dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands of them, packed tightly into the dimly lit space.

Babies? In a place like this?

The sight was wildly out of place. Evan’s mind spun, trying to piece together an explanation, but every thought that surfaced left him wishing he hadn’t even begun to imagine it.

“Why the hell are there baby cribs in this place?”

As the words left his mouth, he turned toward Artemisia and Beatrix, however, the moment their eyes fell on the cribs, their expressions darkened.

“I had a guess on what this place was…but now that I’ve seen irrefutable proof that my guess was correct, I don’t feel so good about it.”

Beatrix’s voice broke the heavy silence, her tone low, filled with unease.

“Guess? About what?”

Her gaze didn’t leave the cribs as she answered, her voice colder than before.

“This place… is indeed an Abandoned Fake Divine Factory.”

The girl’s reply only made Evan’s confusion deepen.

“This is one of those? How can you be so sure? Because of those corpses? Or the giant test tubes that look like they were made to fit entire humans?”

Those did sound like reasons to believe this was the case, but from Beatrix’s words, the ‘irrefutable proof’ she had found was the baby cribs.

In the next moment, Beatrix explicitly confirmed this with her words.

“Those cribs are the proof. Proof that this place was a fake divine factory.”

Evan blinked, still not grasping it. Cribs—hundreds of cribs in a place like this? It didn’t make sense.

“How do cribs prove that? It doesn’t add up.”

And just as he asked that, it hit him.

Arthur’s words from day one in Aramis echoed in his mind, sudden and jarring, like a revelation that had been buried too deep to recall until now.

“They kidnapped babies from their mothers, killed their brains, extracted their Divine Factors, and split them across other people to create ‘Fake Divines.'”

Evan’s body froze when that line resurfaced in his memory.

His gaze slowly turned towards the cribs and the understanding he’d just achieved made his skin crawl.

Hundreds, thousands of babies…

These weren’t just cribs. They were graves—graveyards for lives that never had a chance. Tiny souls, their sentience wiped clean, their divine factors ripped from their bodies and souls to create something else.

Fake Divines, grown from the deaths of innocent children.

Suddenly the details he had missed before while looking at the cribs began screaming for attention.

It was as if his enhanced visual prowess owing to his Mystic eyes decided to sharpen itself even further, allowing him to notice small, barely visible bloodstains and pieces of decayed flesh scattered across the edges of the cribs.

Hearing about something terrible was one thing, but seeing undeniable evidence that it had truly happened—that it had been done—was an entirely different kind of horror.

Without a word, Artemisia and Beatrix turned and left the observation deck, their pace quickening as if they were trying to escape the truth they had just seen.

Evan didn’t blame them. How could one stay in a place like this any longer than necessary?

After a moment of silence, he too turned and followed them, leaving that hall behind and moving deeper into the facility.

They entered another area, one that looked like a shared office, though it could just as easily have been some sort of lab.

The room was lined with desks, chemistry instruments scattered across them. Flasks, beakers, tubes, half-filled bottles, and broken pipettes. Glass tubes had spilt chemicals across the tables, and the pungent scent of rot clung to the air.

Old bottles, the labels faded and peeling, sat on the shelves. Some of them contained chemicals that had long expired, turning dark, oily hues, while others were sealed with cautionary labels, their contents still dangerous despite the years.

They moved past the remnants of old experiments, towards the back of the room where bulky dusty, shattered security cameras hung loosely from the walls.

The desks had built-in computer-like devices, though the screens were dark, and some of the keyboard-like parts were broken in two. Evan’s eyes darted across the instruments—magical projectors sat next to cracked monitors, frozen in time, abandoned like everything else in this godforsaken place.

They opened the next door cautiously and stepped into a room that instantly caught their attention.

Hundreds of VHS tapes lay scattered across the floor like discarded rags, most of them shattered and broken. Their casing had been crushed beneath the weight of something heavy, but some tapes had miraculously survived.

These ones still sat in their protective packs, looking as though they had been abandoned only recently.

Evan crouched down and picked one up, flipping it over in his hands. The tape itself seemed intact, and he moved his eyes onto the label scrawled in jagged marker on the tape: EXPERIMENT 11365.

He would have liked to believe that his number was random, just a coincidence. But when he picked up another tape and saw 10248, he quickly put away those wishful thoughts.

11,000+ experiments.

Thousands of attempts, thousands of lives twisted and broken, all for the sake of these Fake Divine imitations. The Aramisians had been serious about their fake divine creations, more serious than he’d thought.

His hand shook as he grabbed the dusty old projector, turning it over and seeing a slot that looked like where a magic stone was meant to be.

He tossed in a random stone from his inventory and the machine groaned to life with a cough of smoke and dust, the motor sputtering before finally settling into a low hum. He didn’t hesitate, sliding the VHS into place and watching as the projector released a beam of light particles in the direction of an empty wall.

◇　◇　◇

The grainy footage began, the image crackling with age.

It started with the face of a man that Evan recognized—Ger. The same man Arthur had captured when he destroyed the Fake Divine Factory in the Duskhand Bastille and sealed in his subspace.

But this version of Ger looked younger, allowing Evan to come to the rather obvious conclusion that this video had been taken many years ago.

Ger adjusted the camera, stepping back to reveal a group of scientists behind him, all facing their gazes turned in the direction of the large glass wall behind him.

“Artificial Divine Experiment 11365 is online. Today is the 29th of September, 525th divine year.”

Ger announced with robotic efficiency and a voice from off-camera barked at him.

“Ger! Get over here quickly!”

“Yes, Master Zebas!”

He rushed to stand beside his superior, a man Evan could only see as the stereotypical mad scientist.

Zebas had unkempt hair sticking out in all directions, a bloodstained lab coat hanging loosely over his shoulders, and his clothes were wrinkled and dishevelled, as though he’d been working for days without rest.

The other scientists gathered at the glass, watching with eager anticipation. Behind the barrier was another massive test tube, similar to the ones they’d seen earlier, but this one wasn’t broken. It was still functioning.

Inside was a man, strapped down, unconscious. Tubes snaked into his arms, pumping something into his bloodstream. The liquid inside the test tube began to drain, and when the injection was complete, the glass door hissed open.

The man stumbled out, eyes wide and disoriented, and immediately, the scientists began posing questions.

“Alright soldier, tell me, how do you feel?”

Zebas was the first to speak and when the soldier heard his voice, the man straightened, his muscles tense as though testing his newfound strength.

“I feel… powerful.”

His expression was one of intoxication, as if he was drunk on the newfound power flowing through him.

“Focus! Tell me how you really feel.”

The words hit like a slap, pulling the soldier back to the cold reality of the situation and he responded.

“Yes, that’s exactly how I feel, Sir. I feel more powerful, like my muscles are stronger.”

And then another scientist asked.

“Can you feel your divinity?”

“Divinity? I can feel there’s some other energy besides my magic, there’s something in my chest, but I can’t use it.”

The scientists exchanged glances at his reply before speaking.

“That would be your artificial divine core. It’s not something you’ll be able to use just yet.”

Artificial Divine Core.

That was what they called the cores of the Fake Divines.

A Divine spark was the energy core of a god. This artificial divine core was essentially a Fake Divine spark.

Meanwhile, the soldier in the video raised his hand, trying to feel out the energy they spoke of but he felt nothing.

A flicker of frustration crossed his face and he swung his arm through the air, more out of desperation than intent, and suddenly—crack. A beam of light shot from his fingertips, slamming into the floor, leaving a scorched mark.

The soldier’s eyes went wide and he stammered, his voice brimming with disbelief and raw excitement.

“I—I can use it! I actually have divinity now!”

The lab fell silent for a moment as the scientists, even the lead researcher, Zebas, stared at him like he was some kind of anomaly.

“How…? It’s only been a few minutes.”

Zebas narrowed his eyes and posed a question to the soldier.

“Are you a prodigy or something?”

“Nah, I’m just an average guy. Nothing special.”

The man rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face and hearing this, the scientists turned to Zebas who just gave out orders.

“Bring it in.”

By his command, two guards wheeled in a massive, cage-bound beast—a Spear Back bear. The creature’s hulking frame bristled with quills, its eyes glowing with suppressed rage.

Despite the collar clamped around its neck, meant to restrain its strength, the bear’s presence made the soldier’s breath catch in his throat.

His grin faltered and his body tensed instinctively. He hadn’t fought anything in the months he’d been in this facility, let alone a monster like this. Still, the thought of testing his newfound power sent a thrill down his spine.

“We’re going to have to have you fight that to test out this new divinity that you just acquired. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

The soldier responded to Zebas’ question, taking a deep breath and pushing away the instinctive feeling of fear the bear gave him.

The restraints on the Spear Back bear were released, and before the man even had a chance to brace himself, the creature charged at him.

His body responded sluggishly, like moving through molasses—very expected for someone who hadn’t moved in months. He dodged too late and the bear’s claws raked across his arm, sending blood flying through the air.

He leapt back while clutching his wound, his expression contorting in pain. However, his eyes went wide in the next moment when he glanced at the wound.

The cut bubbled for a second, and then it healed over, skin stitching itself back together in front of his eyes.

“I can heal! This is amazing!”

But his celebration was cut short by Zebas’ roar.

“Focus, you idiot! It’s coming!”