Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera A.K. DuBoff (guided reading books TXT) 📖

and found that there were no windows on the doors. He hated to think what might be inside; this was definitely not a forgotten treasure room like he was searching for.

With his father and wife standing on either side of him, he swung the first door inward. Inside were stacks of translucent yellow-orange blocks, approximately a meter wide by forty centimeters high on the ends and two meters deep. Each had a plaque on it, which had a distinctive bright-yellow shine of precious metal.

Cris stepped closer. “Is that gold? Why bother for something thrown in a storeroom?”

“It doesn’t corrode,” Wil replied, worry knotting his stomach. Something is very wrong here.

The stacks of blocks that had seemed orderly at first were actually carelessly piled, like the person who’d done it couldn’t be bothered to spend time or care in their assembly. The piles rose higher than Wil’s head in the back of the room, but the tower was lower to the right. He cautiously stepped forward to investigate.

A layer of dust had settled on the top layer of blocks, and he blew it off with a soft telekinetic wind.

The silhouette of a body inside the block was revealed by the passing breeze. Not peacefully arranged for the long sleep of death, but twisted as though writhing in eternal pain. The woman’s abdomen was split open and her intestines piled to one side. Based on the loose skin around the incision site, she had most likely been pregnant until moments before her death.

Realization came to Wil with a shiver up his spine and a sickening twist of his stomach. These blocks were all bodies. Encased in amber to preserve them. The Priesthood’s test subjects, discarded the moment they were no longer useful.

“Oh, my stars…” Cris recoiled from the sight.

Saera turned away, trying not to gag.

It took several deliberate breaths for Wil to settle his own queasiness.

Shite, who are all these people? He brushed the dust off one of the plaques, restoring its full shine.

He read the inscription on the foot of the amber block. It stated a full name and family tree back to grandparents along with a ‘Subject ID’ number, birth date, and death date. Those foking monsters… He looked around the room with sorrow, thinking about how many other doors there had been in the hallway. If each storeroom was like this, there were potentially thousands of bodies.

Saera had one hand over her mouth and another on her abdomen. Cris stood with an expression of abject horror.

Sudden anger surged through Wil. He knew the emotion was unproductive, since they’d already brought the Priesthood to justice. But he allowed himself to experience that fury all over again, if only for a few seconds—remembering why they had dedicated decades of their lives to bringing down the organization. When the rage had run its course in the short span he permitted, he released it from him and turned to the task at hand.

“We’ll need to get a records team in here. This may provide answers to historical missing person cases.” Wil hated how calmly he’d made the statement. That cold professionalism that came out whenever there was an important task at hand and he was facing something too awful to process in the moment.

How many people did the Priesthood capture and experiment on over the years? They may have an answer soon, or at least an estimate. It had remained a major outstanding question since the organization’s fall, and one nobody had been eager to have answered.

He checked behind the other doors in the hallway. Too many doors. As he feared, they were the same. Stacks and stacks of amber blocks. All with a meticulous record of bloodlines.

Cris and Saera took it in with stoic resolve. They had spent their careers as soldiers and had seen death up close. Anyone less acquainted with the harsh realities of war might have broken down at the sight of the evidence detailing the scale of the Priesthood’s crimes. Their training and experience prevailed, just as Wil’s did. He found himself feeling infinitely relieved that Raena had decided not to come with them.

“I’ll make the arrangements once we’re finished here,” Saera stated. Like Wil, her tone had turned flat and matter-a-fact.

Cris swallowed. “We should finish the search.”

Trying to set aside thoughts of the bodies around him, Wil ran a quick extra-sensory assessment of the wall composition beyond the end of the hall to look for any other hidden chambers. Only solid stone met his probe, so he motioned the group to move on.

They checked several other hallways that had seemed like good candidates on the map, but the next three offered no indication of there being concealed areas nearby. So, they continued their search.

“Seeing what we’ve done to each other as a race, it’s no wonder others have considered wiping us out,” Cris said as they walked toward the next place they had identified on the map.

“Really uplifting thought. Thanks, Dad.”

“He does have a point,” Saera admitted. “I doubt they wrote that ancient treaty without a reason. Even though they chose a peaceful resolution over war then, circumstances have changed.”

“There was no doubt a conflict on a huge scale if it involved three races,” Wil agreed. “I suspect the Bakzen War was a small skirmish by comparison.”

“That conflict dragged on for hundreds of years, though. For all we know, this ancient war could have lasted one day,” his father said.

Saera’s brow furrowed. “No matter its duration, I’m worried to think about what these beings will do to us now. We have no idea what kind of tech Tarans back then may have possessed or how our modern capabilities compare.”

Wil nodded. “The Gatekeepers did tell us, in no uncertain terms, that others would come deal with us. I can only imagine that means the ‘others’ are less scrupulous and