Test Subject 012 - Feb 2116
"Do you really have to go to training every morning?" I ask through a mouthful of plain toast, crumbs scattering onto my plate.
"Yes. It's the only chance I get to get stronger," he says, focused entirely on his food, barely glancing up.
Typical 004, always serious, always determined. In the two weeks I've been here, I've learned one thing about him, he's ridiculously hardworking. The kind of person who wakes up ready to punch the air just to feel productive. But every time I ask why he's so obsessed with training, he dodges the question like it's a trap.
Still, he's opened up a bit. Slowly. But he still tries to keep me just at arm's length. He answers some of my questions, sure, but always vague, never too deep. The most I've managed to dig out of him is that his favourite food is ramen, he's seventeen (same as me, but i'm older by two months), his birthday's 13th October, he likes reading, and before coming here, he trained as a fighter in his local gym.
And even that took serious effort to pry out of him. I practically deserve a medal.
"But it's so boring when you're not here!" I whine dramatically, dropping my forehead onto the table with a loud thunk.
Every morning, it's the same routine, we have breakfast together, and then he's whisked away to "training." Whatever that means. From what little he's told me, it's supposed to help him control his shadows better. Meanwhile, I get locked in our room until he comes back a few hours later. Not exactly the highlight of my day.
I'm still sulking into the table when I feel a gentle poke on top of my head. I tilt my face just enough to see him watching me, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
"How about before we go for our tests this afternoon, we practice a bit of sparring again?" he says.
My head shoots up immediately. "Wait! Do you mean it?" I beam at him, already grinning like an idiot. The first time we sparred was in our room, which, okay, ended in a minor disaster. I tripped, he accidentally hit me in the face, and we both ended up falling onto the floor.
For a second, everything had gone still, his weight above me, his hand braced beside my head, the warmth of his breath brushing against my cheek. My heart had been pounding so hard I swore he could hear it.
Ever since then, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that moment. The closeness. The way he turned my face to meet his, his eyes had locked onto mine, just for a heartbeat too long. I tell myself I just want to spar again because it was fun, because I want to get better, but deep down, I know it's more than that. I want that feeling again, the one that made the whole world fall quiet except for the space between us.
Well... that and because I genuinely liked learning from him. He's a good teacher. Patient, focused, steady in a way that makes me want to try harder.
"Yeah," he says, a teasing grin pulling me out of my thoughts. "You need to at least learn how to throw a punch properly."
"Ha! And you need to learn how to move faster if you want to land another hit!" I fire back, smirking.
"Hey! That's not fair, you can literally see what my next move's gonna be!"
We both laugh, the sound echoing lightly in the canteen. It feels easy. Warm. Like the kind of morning I could actually get used to.
But it doesn't last.
A guard steps into the room, voice sharp and cold. "004. Time for training."
Just like that, the mood shifts. 004 smile drops, then stands, giving me a quick glance and a small wave. "See you at lunch," he says, before heading out.
And then, he's gone. The echo of his footsteps fades, and I'm left staring at his empty seat, the toast on my plate already cold.
I sigh, propping my chin on my hand. "Yeah," I murmur quietly to no one. "See you at lunch."
_____________________________
As I head back to my room to wait for 004, a guard suddenly steps in front of me, blocking my path.
"Can I help you?" I ask, already tired and not in the mood for whatever game they're playing today.
"You've been summoned to the office," he says flatly. His tone is cold, practiced, like he's said those words a hundred times before. Then he turns on his heel and walks away, clearly expecting me to follow.
The office? Why would I be summoned there?
We walk in silence, the sound of our footsteps echoing sharply down the sterile corridor. The air feels colder here, heavier somehow. My stomach twists with every step, a knot of nerves tightening inside me.
When we stop in front of a heavy steel door, the guard moves to the side and says nothing else. I glance at him, but his blank expression tells me everything... I'm on my own.
I reach for the door handle, hesitating for just a second, when a low voice calls from the other side. "Come in."
I push the door open slowly.
The room beyond is… different. Cleaner, newer, almost comfortable compared to the rest of the facility. There's a dark wooden desk in the centre, polished to a mirror shine. Shelves line the back wall, filled with neatly labelled files and small glass cases displaying what look like vials, Lunex Vials. Their precious little trophies. Although, these look empty.
Even with the décor, though, the room still feels wrong. Too still. Too cold. A large wall-to-wall light panel glows behind the desk, casting everything in a sterile white glow that silhouettes the man seated there. It's deliberate, meant to keep his face in shadow, to make him look larger than life. Intimidating.
As I step closer, I finally get a clearer look at him. His eyes are a sharp brown, his hair dark with faint strands of white running through it. There's something eerily familiar about him, but I can't quite place it.
He doesn't acknowledge me at first. His attention stays locked on the papers scattered across his desk, pen scratching steadily. I stand there for several seconds, the silence pressing down on me, until I finally clear my throat to get his attention.
He stops writing, sets his pen down with slow precision, and finally looks up. He picks up a folder from the desk, flipping it open.
"Test Subject 012," he reads aloud. "Arrival date: January, 2115. Power: Future Sight."
A chill crawls up my spine. His voice is calm, but the air in the room feels sharp enough to cut. I can't shake the feeling that I'm being dissected with every word.
"Future Sight is a very rare and valuable ability," he continues, his tone turning pointed. "And yet, it seems you're wasting its full potential."
My mouth goes dry. What does that even mean? Is he saying I'm a disappointment? That I've failed their precious experiments? My heart starts hammering in my chest, and for a terrifying second, I wonder if I've just been summoned for termination.
He finally closes the folder and folds his hands neatly on the desk. "Listen, 012. I'll be direct, time is not something I care to waste. You're being considered for integration into my Special Operations Division."
I blink, stunned. Of all the things I expected, that wasn't one of them.
"I'm sorry, Mr…?" I trail off, realising he hasn't even introduced himself. He gives off this unnerving mix of arrogance and authority that makes it hard to breathe.
"You can call me Dr. Langford," he says, leaning back slightly in his chair.
He continues in that same calm, clinical tone. "This division I'm allowing you to join is a rare opportunity, one you would be foolish to pass up. You'll receive advanced training and guidance to refine your Future Sight. In return, you'll be relocated back to the main facility with the other gifted subjects. And once you've proven your usefulness, you'll be permitted to work in the field."
I stare at him, the words barely sinking in. Permitted to work in the field... as in leave?
Leave the facility? Actually leave? My mind spins. I could see the sky again. Feel grass under my feet. Breathe air that isn't recycled and filtered a thousand times. I could see the stars again. God, I miss the stars.
It sounds too good to be real.
"This opportunity," Dr. Langford continues, "is only offered to subjects with unique and reliable powers, those willing to prove themselves useful."
I can barely hear him over the pounding in my ears. My thoughts are racing. This is it. A chance. My chance. The first and maybe only one I'll ever get.
But then, a single image flashes through my mind... 004. His laugh in the canteen, the warmth in his eyes when he finally lets his guard down.
What about 004?
I swallow hard. "Before I answer, Dr. Langford," I say carefully, "can I ask something? Why is 004 still here? Surely he meets your expectations for one of your special division operators."
If anyone deserves to be free, it's him. He's strong. Driven. Dedicated. More than I'll ever be.
Dr. Langford exhales, almost like he's tired of the topic. "004 is not yet fit for the field."
Not fit? That doesn't make sense. How could he not be? He's practically built for it. The explanation sits wrong in my gut, cold and sour.
"I see," I murmur, though the words feel hollow.
The guilt creeps in fast. Freedom is right in front of me, but the thought of leaving him behind twists something deep inside.
"Can I… think about it?" I ask quietly.
Dr. Langford's expression hardens. "012, I don't have time for indecisiveness," he says, voice sharp.
"Please, sir," I blurt before I can stop myself. "Just a little time."
He studies me for a long, heavy moment, then sighs. "You have until the end of the week to decide."
That doesn't give me much time at all. I open my mouth to argue, but before I can, he waves his hand dismissively...conversation over.
I clench my fists, forcing down the frustration. "Understood, sir," I mutter.
As I leave the room, the door shutting softly behind me, my thoughts won't stop racing.Freedom or him. The world or the one person in this place who makes it bearable.
And I have no idea which choice is right.
____________________
I stretch out on the floor of our room, staring up at the ceiling. The air hums faintly with the sound of the filtration system, and the steady rush of water from the shower next door fills the silence. It's one of those moments where everything feels still... too still.
What should I do? Can I really turn down an opportunity like that just because of… him? It's only been two weeks, but somehow 004 has become someone I actually care about.
I've seen so many people come and go that I usually just try to enjoy the moment while it lasts, but with him, it feels different. He's quiet and serious most of the time, but there's something about him that makes me want to stay, to make sure he's okay. And now, lying here on the floor, all I can think about is what would happen to him if I left. Would he be alright without me around? Would he even have anyone else to talk to?
Or... would he even care? He's always so focused, so determined to get stronger. Maybe I'm just some noisy distraction he puts up with. Maybe if I'm gone, he'll finally have peace and quiet.
Ugh. I groan and press my palms over my face. What do I do?
I'm so caught up in my own head that I don't even notice the shower's stopped until a shadow falls over me.
"What are you doing?"
The ceiling light shines just above his head, casting a faint halo around him, like some kind of guardian angel with bad social skills. I blink up at him, trying not to look guilty.
"Just… thinking," I say quickly, forcing a smile that probably looks more like a grimace.
I try to brush it off like it's nothing and we head to the canteen, but the thought won't leave me alone. He probably wouldn't be that upset if I left, maybe a little at first, but he'd move on. He's strong like that. All I have to do is keep acting normal until I figure out what to do… but time's running out.
As we reach the doorway, he suddenly stops.
"Do you want to go back?"
My heart lurches.
"What?" I ask, voice too sharp. Does he know? Did Dr. Langford already tell him?
He looks at me, and there's this sadness in his eyes that punches the air right out of my lungs. His shoulders are tense, his voice quieter when he adds, "You talk about the main facility sometimes. You sound like you miss it."
Oh. That's what he meant. But the guilt still hits hard anyway.
"I…" I trail off, words tangling in my throat. How do I even explain what I'm feeling? That I want to leave, but I don't want to leave him? That every part of me is screaming for freedom, but another part wants to stay in this dull, sterile place just because of his stupid, tired smile?
I look at him properly then, really look. He looks exhausted, like someone's taken everything from him and he's still trying to stand tall anyway. How does he do that? How does he keep going when this place keeps breaking us piece by piece?
And just like that, I get it. The realisation hits so hard I almost laugh. I like him. I mean really like him. Not just because he's the only one here. But because somewhere between his quiet strength and the way the little things he does to show he looks out for me, I've started to care too much.
"Hey," I say softly, reaching out to nudge his arm. "Being here with you has been the most fun I've had since coming here. I mean it. I've really enjoyed spending time with you."
He blinks, clearly caught off guard, and this tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's small, hesitant, but it's real.
I grin and give him a playful shove. "Come on, let's grab lunch. You still owe me that sparring match, remember?"
That earns me a quiet laugh, and something in my chest finally unclenches.
Yeah… maybe I'll stay a little longer.Because honestly, how could I walk away from someone like him?
________________________
"You need to stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, one slightly ahead of the other," 004 says, nudging my right foot with his.
"Okay, okay, I got it," I grumble, trying not to sound as exhausted as I feel. I did ask for this, but this is not the kind of sparring session I was hoping for.
I thought there'd be a little more… contact. But nope. So far, all he's done is make me practice throwing punches like a beginner.
"Hold your fists up near your cheeks to guard your face. Elbows tucked in."
He stands right in front of me, demonstrating for what feels like the tenth time. Every time I think I've got it, he finds something wrong and makes me start over. But I can't even be annoyed, well not completely, because the way he explains things is so focused, so confident. His voice is calm but firm, and the way he moves is so sure of itself. It's… kind of hot, actually.
"Now," he continues, demonstrating again, "extend your arm straight toward the target. As your arm extends, rotate your hips and shoulders slightly into the punch. Remember, your power comes from your body, not just your arm."
I nod, determined this time. Okay, I've so got this. I plant my feet, extend my arm, twist my hips just like he said...Only for him to casually block it with one hand like it's nothing.
"Nope. Try again," he says simply. His tone isn't harsh, he doesn't even sound impatient. Just… steady.
I let out a dramatic groan. "Oh, come on, 004! I've done this, like, twenty times already. Surely one of them was at least decent!"
He smiles softly and shakes his head. "You need to focus on using the power in your body to follow through with the punch."
Before I can respond, he steps closer, way closer. He moves behind me, and I feel his hands settle on my hips, firm but careful.
My brain short-circuits.
He gently turns my hips, showing me how to move them as I throw the punch. His hands are warm, and even through my clothes I can feel the warmth and strength in them. My face heats up immediately.
He's close, so close that I can feel his breath brush against the back of my neck. I turn my head just a little, and his face is right there, focused, completely unaware of how fast my heart is racing.
"You need to move like…" he starts, then suddenly looks up. Our eyes lock, and his words die mid-sentence.
Everything stops.
I forget how to breathe. His eyes are deep and dark, like the stary night sky, calm but full of something I can't quite name. There's a faint blush creeping up his cheeks, but he doesn't look away. I swear his gaze flickers to my lips for just a second, and my stomach does this wild flip.
I lean in slightly, barely thinking. His expression softens, and for a heartbeat, I think maybe, just maybe, he's leaning in too.
Then...
"Time for your tests."
The sharp voice of the guard snaps us both back to reality.
We freeze.
004's hands drop from my hips like I'm suddenly made of fire. He clears his throat quickly, turning away as if that moment didn't just happen. His face is red, like, really red, and he refuses to look at me.
"Uh… we'd better get going," he mumbles, already heading for the door.
Before he gets too far, I reach out and grab his arm, giving it a quick squeeze. "I'll see you at dinner, okay?" I say, smiling up at him.
He looks back, caught off guard again, and there it is, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "See you at dinner."
As he walks away, I'm left standing there, grinning like an idiot. My heart's still racing, and I can't wipe the smile off my face.
I'm so doomed.