The cold, sterile air of Lab Sector 9 was filled with screams — not of animals, but of children. Cries of agony echoed down the metallic halls as if the very walls mourned the pain within. Among the thirty subjects undergoing cruel experimentation, six had already succumbed to the horrors. Their lifeless bodies were discarded as failures.
Dr. Nicolas stood in the observation room, a smirk carved into his face like stone.
"Such weak children," he muttered with amusement. "Even after awakening their mana, they still die. Pathetic."
The other scientists looked on in silence, horror veiled behind masks of professionalism. Though many of them disagreed with Nicolas's methods, none dared to defy him. His authority was ironclad — and terrifying.
Down in the lower chamber, one child's screams abruptly ceased. Nicolas narrowed his eyes at the monitor.
"Number 30…?" he muttered, moving closer.
The boy on the table — a frail figure who had been convulsing moments ago — now lay completely still. Nicolas assumed the worst.
"Dead, huh?" he whispered, leaning over.
But then, a faint signal pulsed on the heart monitor. His heart was still beating.
"What?" Nicolas's eyes widened. "He's… stabilized?" A mad grin spread across his face. "Hah! He's completed the first stage! This serum usually takes over a month to assimilate! HAHAHA!"
The head scientist turned and barked, "Oye! You fools!"
"Yes, Sir Nicolas!" the staff snapped to attention.
"Ready him for the second dose," Nicolas ordered, his voice crackling with excitement.
A younger doctor hesitated. "Sir… with respect, if we give him another dose now, he'll die. At least let him recover. Let the others catch up…"
Nicolas paused, thinking, then waved his hand. "Fine. You're right. I got… excited. Transfer him to Chamber 4. Keep him under watch."
The boy — Liam Morningstar — was silently shifted to another chamber. The straps around his wrists and ankles stayed firm, binding him to the cold metal bed. Though he couldn't move, he could hear. The screams of the other children haunted him still.
A nearby doctor checked his vitals. Liam stirred weakly, voice like a whisper.
"Wh… what's today's… date?"
The doctor glanced at the wall monitor. "Today? June 7th, Year 314. Why?"
Liam's eyes filled with tears. He turned his head away, the sound of the door closing echoing like a sentence.
"Today's… my brother Alex's birthday…" he whispered to himself.
Tears rolled down his face. For minutes, he sobbed silently — until he stopped.
And then, his face changed.
No longer sorrowful. No longer broken.
Now, it was cold. Focused. Deadly.
"I can't cry anymore," he muttered. "They'll all pay. Every last one of them. For my family. For the others. For everything."
Two Days Later
Nicolas entered Chamber 3, where twenty children remained.
"Oh, what a scene!" he announced with joy. "Only twenty survivors! Truly impressive."
Some of the children screamed. Others begged. Some were already too broken to do either. But Liam… Liam was quiet.
Nicolas strode between the beds, relishing the fear. The children were tied down, their limbs restrained as the second serum was prepared.
"Struggle, scream… it makes me happy!" Nicolas said with a wide, sickening smile.
But he stopped in front of one child.
Number 30.
His grin faded.
"You still grieving your foster family, Number 30?"
"My name," Liam whispered, "is Liam Morningstar."
Nicolas snorted. "Names don't matter. Facts do. And the fact is… you're about to feel every bone in your body crushed, reshaped, and crushed again. Over and over. Welcome to Stage Two."
He injected the serum.
Liam's scream never came.
But the pain did.
It was as if fire poured into his marrow. His bones twisted and shattered from the inside out. Every joint felt like it was being ripped apart and rebuilt. Again. And again.
But Liam refused to scream.
Instead, he focused. On memories. His mother's soft voice. His brother Alex's laughter. His father's strength.
And then… the day it all ended. The men in black. The fire. The screams. Their faces. The laughter of those responsible.
No, he thought, I won't die here. I'll survive. I'll endure. And I'll kill every last one of you.
The other children screamed louder now, their pain unbearable. But Liam's face remained still. His fury grew — a quiet, simmering flame beneath the agony.
Watching from the side, a young doctor whispered, "Sir… why did you give him a serum twenty times stronger than the others?"
"Because I hate his eyes," Nicolas muttered.
"His… eyes?"
"The way he looks at me. Like I'm beneath him. It reminds me of… unpleasant things."
"But… if he survives…"
"He won't," Nicolas said coldly. "No one can survive bones breaking and reforming endlessly. If he dies, good. If not…" Nicolas chuckled. "Then we may have created the most powerful subject this world has ever seen."
The doctor smiled nervously. "Then… let's hope he survives."
Nicolas fell silent.
He shouldn't be alive, he thought. No one should live through that. I may have made a foolish mistake. I may have killed a… capable rat.
Two Months Later
The experiments continued. Five more children died.
Some succeeded — partially.
But one result shocked everyone.
Number 30.
Liam Morningstar.
He was still alive.
And burning with the quiet fury of a child who had suffered… and who would soon make the world suffer in return.