When everyone else retreated in fear, Grindelwald stepped forward and entered first, and Vid, who always followed by his side, was no exception.
Seeing the scene inside, despite having prepared himself mentally in advance, Vid still felt his heart tighten and his temples throb violently.
Vid tried to take a deep breath to calm down, but was overwhelmed with nausea. He bowed his head, covering his mouth and nose to slow his increasingly rapid breathing.
Waves of blue fire swept outward, clearing almost all the base personnel within sight.
But Grindelwald's flames only consumed those who harbored ill intent towards him; other wizards in black cloaks, and those beings behind the walls that couldn't quite be called "people," remained untouched.
The scene inside thus became clearer to everyone.
Dozens, maybe even hundreds of "experimental subjects," were confined like livestock in transparent cages stained with blood, their limbs twisted, skin decaying, strange feathers or scales growing from their bodies, emitting weak wails.
Some seemed to have already died, making no attempt to dodge even as the vibrant flames approached their faces.
Vid had thought the base was only modifying werewolves and vampires, but it wasn't like that at all.
Looking at the appearances of these "subjects," it was clear they were also trying out the bloodlines of giants, trolls, goblins, banshees, merpeople, centaurs, and other magical creatures here.
Werewolves and vampires are originally transformed from humans, with a high mortality rate, but measures can be taken to manage the process to some extent. Modifying those with entirely different genes from humans is akin to slaughter.
The base was, essentially, throwing endless people into this bottomless lottery pit, hoping irrationally for a miraculous SSR result. The involvement of technology and genetic engineering hadn't made the process any smoother or humane.
Grindelwald squinted his eyes, a flash of cold anger on his face. With a wave of his hand, a few wizards carrying the Flow Mirror Mother Mirror hurried in, recording the interior scenes.
Grindelwald continued deeper inside, observing some "subjects" even throwing themselves onto the flames, attempting to burn themselves to death; others let out piercing wails, clawing themselves until they were a bloody mess.
He turned around, looking at the silent wizards who had followed him inside.
His gaze pierced through the magical mist woven onto their cloaks, clearly seeing the young eyes beneath their hoods.
A short time ago, those eyes harbored doubt, defiance, weakness, disgust, blind loyalty, and nonsensical arrogance.
Yet now, their eyes had undergone a transformation that was satisfying to behold.
Grindelwald looked at them, his white hair wild in the hot wind, eyes sharp as blades, seemingly burning both himself and others.
"Before we set out, I asked you a question. Do you have the answer now?"
"Why am I still here? Why does the world still need the Witch Pure Party?"
"—This is the answer!"
The aged voice rumbled in their ears, even Delaine was shaken to his core, wanting to say something but unable to utter a word, ultimately bowing deeply.
Vid took a couple of steps, quickly putting some distance between himself and Grindelwald.
Then he saw the many black-robed wizards bowing to Grindelwald like sunflowers chasing the sun, filled with inexpressible submission and awe.
Grindelwald raised his magic wand high, a red firework burst overhead, blending with the flames below, casting everything in a hellish light.
"Go," he said. "Kill them all and bring me their leader!"
The wizards scattered with a roar, attacking in all directions.
The cries of "Avada Kedavra," "Reducto," "Imperio," "Crucio" grew more frequent.
For wizards, Muggles are generally formidable. But in battles like these, facing wizards wielding all sorts of spells, ordinary troops stand little chance.
Wizards with the Flow Mirror diligently recorded the gruesome state of the "experimental subjects," and upon hearing of another discovered lab, rushed to continue filming.
"Bang!"
Not far from Vid, a "person" with black fur covering their body and a head five or six times larger than normal pounded the bulletproof glass of their transparent cage.
Vid turned his head to see a pair of blood-red eyes, full of pleading, looking at him. The person opened their mouth, speaking slowly with all their strength—
"Kill... me... please... kill... me..."
Vid looked into their eyes, feeling as if his breath was taken away, the fingers gripping his magic wand trembling slightly.
Boundless anger and sorrow filled his heart, causing it to ache.
A black-robed wizard approached Grindelwald, glancing curiously at Vid standing not far away with his hood up, then quietly inquired:
"Sir, what about these guys—should we..."
He gestured killing them as he spoke.
"No, keep them alive," Grindelwald replied with a smile. "The Ministry of Magic will have more headaches dealing with these people."
The black-robed wizard nodded in sincere agreement: "Yes."
Grindelwald sent everyone off to their tasks, then beckoned Vid over, saying, "Come with me, boy."