The group entered into a major antechamber, one of the study halls and arming rooms that lead towards the Deep Archives. The regular furniture had been cleared out of the way, with the primary point of interest being the dozen or so mortal servants whose bodies were stacked in a bloody heap on one side of the room. They had been flayed and their skulls broken open, with their skins twisted around an arched doorway and their brains being used to write upon the macabre parchment. The author of the atrocity was a man of stooped mortal stature so buried within his robes that his face could not be seen, his limbs atrophied but his spiritual presence so great he was moving the viscera that was his ink with his mind alone.
Yon didn't know where to look, since everything was unpleasant. The script was simultaneously fascinating but also made his head spin to gaze upon it. The bodies taunted him with their ghastly anonymity: had he known any of those servants, had he interacted with any of them? He knew from personal experience how little the lives of mortals could mean to those spiritually greater than them, but this was different.
It was the looks in the eyes of the other disciples that finally clued Yon into what was different. If an elder wanted to run an experiment on mortals, it was generally seen as a courtesy to other disciples to not make a public mess. This display showed that fundamentally the Celestials saw the disciples as little better than the mortals, meaning that perhaps for the first time in their lives these disciples were feeling empathy for the flayed and shattered bodies on the floor, and they did not like it.