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9. Still Alive

Pietro was running through the monastery. He could feel his destination was getting closer, as the demonic whispers in his ears were becoming more and more intense.

The nauseating sensation also made it hard for Pietro to keep his speed up. Eventually, he had to stop, leaning against a wall and taking deep breaths.

"Hah—huff, hah—huff."

Like a drowning man rescued from the water, Quicksilver greedily inhaled the air. He never wanted to experience that again; he felt he would have thrown up if he hadn't stopped in time.

Suppressing the urge to vomit, Pietro knew he wasn't in a safe place yet.

"It looks like this is it." He looked up and saw a well sealed with iron chains. According to the orphanage's map, this place should be the backyard, located in the southwest corner of the entire complex. The west led to the monastery, and the south was a forested area where people rarely ventured.

As he moved towards the well, Pietro couldn't help but feel nervous. The surroundings were desolate, with fallen leaves everywhere and several broken statues standing on the ground. A chilly wind made Pietro shiver.

"Damn it, I'm starting to regret this. Alex didn't mention how creepy this place was."

Muttering to himself, Pietro spat on the ground and then, seeming to make up his mind, used his rapidly vibrating left hand to break the chains sealing the well before jumping in.

The well and its walls were quite large, enough to accommodate four people. In free fall, a normal person would have turned into a pulp upon hitting the bottom, but not Pietro. In his high-speed state, he could control his falling speed.

Quickly, Pietro tapped the wall with his foot, landing perfectly at the bottom of the well.

"It seems Alex was right. A normal orphanage wouldn't spend so much money. Most of the funds must have gone into constructing these underground facilities."

Touching the tunnel walls, Pietro furrowed his brow. It was hard to imagine what Emma's intentions were, and what happened to the missing children. This orphanage was far from the benevolent institution the newspapers claimed it to be; it harbored untold horrors.

But that had little to do with him. Pietro just wanted to get the helmet Alex mentioned and get out of this unsettling place. He crouched down, readying himself for a sprint. In the next moment, his figure vanished.

Honestly, Pietro's speed was now too fast for the naked eye to catch, but it wasn't his full speed. In fact, it was less than half his running speed.

As a speedster, arm movement was crucial for balance while running. Humans evolved to lose their tails because their arms could better maintain balance. In a speedster's state, arm movement was even more critical. But without his right arm, Pietro couldn't run as fast. It was harder to maintain balance, and without the arm's momentum, he couldn't achieve his top speed.

However, Pietro used to run so fast that it strained his heart. He once suspected that if he kept running at that speed, his heart would eventually burst from the pressure. Now, he couldn't run that fast anymore. Whether this was good or bad, he didn't know.

Though the orphanage's underground tunnels were deep, Pietro quickly passed through them, reaching a more spacious area.

Suddenly, Pietro's brain felt a sharp pain, as if someone had stabbed it with a needle. He clutched his head, coming to an abrupt halt, causing him to nearly crashing into the wall.

Opening his eyes slowly, Pietro saw stars. He shook his head vigorously, trying to clear the dizziness and nausea, attempting to regain his clarity.

Evidently, he had forgotten that he was now at the source of those psychic energies. Running at high speed here made his brain a target for those energies.

When Pietro finally regained his composure, he started observing his surroundings. The smell of blood in the air made his hair stand on end, he readied himself to flee at any moment.

"What the hell is this place?" Pietro whispered, looking around cautiously. He found himself in a dimly lit corridor, resembling a prison, with doors on both sides spaced every two meters. It reminded Pietro of the mutant prison he was once in.

He tiptoed to the door of one of the rooms. It was a steel door with vertical bars on the window. Standing on tiptoe, Pietro peeked through the gaps.

Inside was a rectangular room less than seven square meters, with only a small bed. On the bed sat a child, looking no more than four or five years old, but with their back to Pietro, he couldn't see their face.

Hesitating for a moment, Pietro decided against interacting with the child. In such a terrifying environment, he didn't want to draw attention. Besides, the child sitting with their back to him was too scary—what if they turned around suddenly?

His goal was the helmet Alex mentioned, not to figure out what Emma was doing here or what happened to these children.

With that thought, Pietro turned to leave. As he turned, he froze, his entire body immobilized by shock and his eyes widening in disbelief. At the entrance of the corridor stood a woman, silently watching Pietro.

No one knew when she appeared or how long she had been there. When Pietro noticed her, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

She was a woman with white hair and a stunningly beautiful face, watching Pietro with an enigmatic expression. Pietro instantly recognized her—the builder of this orphanage, Emma Frost.

"I didn't expect a little mouse to sneak in. It seems I've been too complacent over the years." Emma licked her lips, her voice was melodious like a nightingale, but to Pietro, it sounded like the whisper of death.

"Aren't you supposed to be giving an interview—ah!" Pietro tried to accelerate but was stopped by the stabbing pain in his head, he cried out in agony.

Clutching his head, Pietro felt as if his brain was being torn apart. In such a state, he couldn't even think of using his speed, let alone run.

"Hmph...did you think I wouldn't notice you? My children sensed your presence the moment you entered my domain. A speedster is quite rare," Emma said, her voice soft. From behind her, two girls, each about four or five years old, emerged.

"They...are psychic too?" Pietro asked, enduring the pain.

The little girls beside Emma were expressionless, their eyes rolled back to reveal only the whites. It was hard to believe these were children at the age of joy; they looked like broken dolls.

"What have you done!?" Pietro yelled through gritted teeth.

"I've achieved what the Creator couldn't!" Emma's eyes widened, and she grinned, her beautiful face contorted into a grimace. She stroked the girls' heads and continued.

"This world is on the brink of catastrophe. Only mutants will survive. I'm simply helping those lowly beings evolve, just like my church— Church of the Next Generation! Everything we do is for the sake of the next generation."

As she spoke, Emma bent down and rubbed her cheek against one of the girls. "Look, what a beautiful creation, they are flawless works of art"

....

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