CHAPTER 966: MOST COMPATIBLE

The six candidates, four men and two women, stood in a tense line beneath the arching infusion frames. Their chests bare and glistening under the pale blue lights of the containment chamber.

Each of them had a slightly different physique and posture, but they shared the same expression, a rigid mix of nervousness, fear, but also unyielding determination.

Their eyes glanced between the floating tubes and the glowing Magic essence within it, watching it churn softly like a sleeping storm full of power.

Their backs were connected by clear conduits that shimmered with the faint pulse of distilled Magic.

The blue-tinged liquid inside radiated energy that was almost beautiful but all of them knew it was also dangerous. One wrong reaction, and their bodies might not survive the infusion.

One of the women clenched her fists tightly. Her lips pressed in a thin line.

Beside her, one of the men took a deep breath and whispered a prayer under his breath, nobody heard it but it was full of resolve.

Another male candidate flexed his fingers, trying to keep calm while the machine’s low hum began to rise. A slow heartbeat rhythm began echoing from the central monitoring system.

On the other side of the reinforced glass, the control chamber was packed with observers and staffers.

Most of them wore white coats, while others bore military emblems. They stood in silence with eyes fixed on the monitors, tablets clutched tightly in their hand.

General Lennaard stood at the front of the observers with arms crossed, his towering frame still. Though his face was hardened by decades of command, his jaw was tight.

His gaze flicked between each candidate. He had personally signed off this project and now it was unfolding before him. The outcome would be either history or disaster. It will all will be his burden.

Behind him, Adrien whispered something to Billy, who nodded in agreement while adjusting a set of dials.

Erend said nothing. His eyes were locked on the candidates. He could sense the Magic around them and how it was trying to find a place within their bodies. It was like watching seeds being planted in untested soil. He had seen this before and at that time he was forced to destroy it. Now he is actually were here to make sure that he will not need to destroy it again.

A lead technician’s voice came through the speaker.

"Infusion rate is stable. Core temperature within tolerance. No rejection detected yet."

There was an audible exhale across the room, as if the entire staff had been holding their breath.

The blue light intensified slightly as the essence began to enter deeper. The candidates’ bodies shivered.

Sweat beaded along their brows. One of the men let out a strained breath as the veins along his arms began to glow faintly, following the pattern of the infusion.

General Lennaard leaned forward slightly.

"Don’t die now," he murmured under his breath to himself. "You’re the future of the human fighting force."

The first true test of the Magic-Human Assimilation Project had begun.

The progression of the infusion continued with clinical precision. Despite the tension thick in the chamber, everything unfolded with eerie smoothness.

The volatile yet controlled Magic essence flowed through the candidates without immediate rejection. The containment chamber’s hum deepened as the infusion reached the final calibration point.

"Stabilization confirmed," the technician announced. "Vital signs normalizing."

One by one, the six candidates slumped slightly as the infusion beds unlocked.

Their bodies trembled from the strain, but none of them collapsed. Instead, they stood on wobbling legs while breathing heavily and eyes wide with the disorienting weight of what had just coursed through their veins.

Medical staff in protective gear entered immediately, surrounding them with support harnesses and scanners.

With practiced efficiency they guided the six out of the chamber and into the adjoining infirmary.

Each candidate was laid gently into isolation pods where monitors tracked their vitals. Cool mist hissed around them to ease the swelling in their muscles and calm their taxed nervous systems.

Erend stood silently with arms folded behind his back and watching with sharp eyes. His Dragon senses picked up the fluctuations in their auras. Faint traces of Magic now lingering in each of them. They had survived the process until now. But this was only the first step.

Within a minute, the second batch was prepared.

This time, seven stood beneath the infusion frames. There were three women and four men. They had witnessed the first batch return conscious and intact, and that glimpse of success sparked hope but also brought weight.

No one wanted to be the first failure.

The process began again. Tubes hissed, light pulsed, and the core essence flowed.

One of the candidates winced early on, his teeth clenched as the energy struck his nerves harder than expected. But after a long grueling five minutes, he stabilized.

The rest followed suit. Their bodies shook as the infusion did its work.

General Lennaard remained stone-faced.

Adrien whispered quietly, "They’re adapting quicker than our projections. I guess Thomas and Conrad really did their job in smoothing these essences."

Billy nodded with arms crossed, his eyes scanning the pressure graphs. "Whatever they did, somehow they managed to make it less volatile."

As the second group was wheeled to the infirmary and the third entered, a rhythm began to form.

Batch after batch, candidates underwent the process. From now, some of them screamed in pain, some nearly passed out, but none of them rejected the Magic.

They were being changed.

Then, it happened.

On the fourth batch, among the eight standing under the frame, one male candidate, a tall, wiry, and previously flagged for his unique nervous system, began to glow more brightly than the others.

Not just his veins, but his entire body pulsed with a rhythmic flicker light of Magic power.

The technicians paused.

"He’s resonating much better than the rest," one of them whispered.

The readings on his pod spiked, but not into danger zones. His vitals were strong. Stronger than expected. His heart rate is steady, oxygen levels perfect. And the Magic essence wasn’t fighting him. It was flowing into him like it belonged there.

Erend narrowed his eyes.

General Lennaard’s jaw shifted. "Mark him. Full observation round-the-clock. I want to know everything about him."

And just like that, the first candidate showing true compatibility had emerged.

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