Kai Langford - Feb 2116
That was close. Way too close. I can't believe I almost… kissed him. What the hell was I thinking? I can't afford to get attached to anyone here, not if I ever plan to get out and see Noah again.
I told myself from the start to keep 012 at arm's length. It was safer that way. But somewhere along the way, his light got to me. His constant energy, that stupidly kind smile, those bright green eyes that make it feel like the walls aren't closing in so much anymore…
No. Stop it, Kai. Don't think like that.
Still, I can feel the memory of him pressed close against me, the warmth of his body, the way his cheeks flushed when our eyes met. My face heats up all over again just remembering it, and I can't help the small grin that slips out.
But it fades fast. Because as soon as we reach the experimentation room, that warmth drains away. Reality has a way of reminding me where we really are.
The door slides open with a soft hiss, and I step inside. The air is cold, and the sterile white walls seem to swallow up every sound. Everything in here looks the same as it always does: the chair in the middle of the room, the hum of the monitors against the far wall, the faint chemical bleach smell that never really goes away.
Two scientists are waiting for me. Dr. Sora Williams and his assistant, Dr. Thomas.
They're an odd pair. Williams stands with that same self-satisfied posture, hands clasped neatly in front of him, a faint smile tugging at his lips like he's already proud of whatever's about to happen. Thomas, on the other hand, looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. He's young, mid-twenties, with tired brown eyes that flicker between me and his clipboard like he's counting down the seconds until this is over.
"Oh, Langford, my boy," Williams says with that familiar, practiced warmth as he steps forward. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, it's the kind of smile that looks friendly at first glance but feels off once you see it up close. There's something sly behind it, something calculating. "Ready for today's test?"
I don't bother answering. I just nod.
He pats my shoulder before stepping aside, and I walk toward the chair. My body moves automatically. I've done this so many times that I don't even think about it anymore. Sit. Wait. Endure.
Thomas approaches quietly. "004, please give me your hand."
His tone is polite, careful. I lift my left hand without a word, and he starts attaching the clips to my fingers, cold metal biting lightly against my skin. More sensors follow, pressed against my temples with tape that tugs at my hair. I stare straight ahead while he works, watching the faint reflection of the monitors flicker across the polished floor.
When he's done, he steps back, and Williams moves closer again, smiling like this is all routine, like we're about to start a harmless check-up.
"Alright, then," he says, clapping his hands once. "For today's experiment, we'll be testing your output limits again."
Of course. I hate this one.
I know what it means. Keep using my ability until I can't anymore. Keep pushing until my body tells me to stop, then push past that, because stopping isn't an option.
I don't respond. There's nothing left to say.
Williams doesn't seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn't care. "Excellent. Come along, Dr. Thomas."
The two of them leave, their footsteps fading as the door closes behind them. Through the glass, I can see them take their positions, Williams standing tall, Thomas is watching the readings on his screen.
I sit there for a moment longer, staring down at my hands. The clips dig lightly into my skin, the metal already starting to feel warm from my body heat.
Same usual tests. Same room. Same feeling in my chest.
I take a slow breath.Then another.
And wait for the signal to begin.
There are three short beeps, sharp, mechanical and then silence. That's my cue to begin.
The shadows stir immediately, like they've just woken from sleep. They crawl out from beneath my feet, slow at first, then surge forward in a rush, swallowing the sterile white walls one by one. I make sure they don't reach the viewing room or the monitors. Last time, when the I covered the glass and the lights went out, Williams made me start all over again. He said I ruined their observations. I learned my lesson.
The sound in the room changes as the shadows spread, muffled, heavy, like the air itself is thickening. My chest tightens. My pulse quickens. Every beat of my heart feels louder, rougher. I can feel the strain already pulling at me, like invisible hands gripping my ribs.
Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty.
The first bolt of pain hits right beneath my chest, sharp and sudden. My breath catches. I grit my teeth and keep going. When I first started these "output limit tests," I collapsed after two minutes. Two. Williams had smiled and said, "You'll learn to improve."
Now I can last longer, but it just means the pain lasts longer too.
The shadows move faster, almost out of my control now, rippling across the floor and walls like black fire. My heart feels like it's tearing itself apart, pounding so hard it might burst. My hands tremble. When I glance down, I see the familiar sight, the tips of my fingers blackening, the color creeping slowly up my wrists. It's always like this when I push too far, like my power is trying to take over me.
"why...why...why"
Whose voice is that? I can't place it, my mind lurches, scrambling. Then comes the bleeding. A hot trickle down my nose, then another. I wipe it away with the back of my hand, but it just smears. The taste of iron fills my mouth. My vision flickers, darkens at the edges.
I can hear something, someone shouting, but it's muffled, distant, like I'm underwater. My head throbs. Every second feels like it's stretching too long, too heavy. But I can't stop. If I stop now, I'll fall behind. If I keep going, maybe I'll finally be strong enough to leave here.
And then...
A blinding crack of electricity surges through the collar at my neck. My entire body seizes. The shadows snap back in an instant, retreating into me like smoke being sucked away. The shock isn't long, but it's brutal. My muscles lock. My teeth grind together. The air leaves my lungs in one strangled gasp.
When it stops, the silence is worse than the pain. My breathing is ragged, shallow. I can't get enough air. My chest feels like it's caving in, my heartbeat wild and uneven.
I manage to pry my eyes to the thick observation glass, a deep fracture splitting across its surface like a spider's web... Ugh. I tried so hard to avoid that this time. I really did.
Are they going to make me do it again?
The door slams open and Dr. Thomas is the first to rush in, his clipboard forgotten somewhere behind him. He drops to his knees beside me.
"004! Can you hear me? Stay with me, okay?" His voice sounds far away, but his hands are firm as he grabs my shoulders. I feel his fingers shaking slightly.
A flashlight beam hits my eyes. I flinch away, too weak to lift a hand. My head is pounding, blood dripping down my chin now. My body feels heavy, like I'm sinking into the chair.
When I glance around the observation room, I spot Williams. He's not looking at me. He's inspecting the cracked glass and the readouts on his monitor with that same thin, satisfied smile.
Typical.
I lower my head, too tired to care. My hands won't stop shaking. The black creeping up my arms hasn't faded yet, it's still there, pulsing faintly under my skin, like something alive.
And for the first time, I wonder if one day… it won't stop at all.
When I finally come back to myself, the world feels distant, muted. My heartbeat still pounds in my chest like a warning, and every throb behind my eyes makes my vision blur. The taste of metal hasn't left my mouth.
Williams steps closer, his polished shoes echoing against the tiles. I can feel his presence before I even look up. Then that voice, smooth and sharp all at once, cuts through the quiet.
"Oh, Langford" he says, his tone sweet and false. The smile on his face doesn't reach his eyes. It never does. "Looks like you lost control again." He pats my shoulder with mock sympathy, and though the touch is light, it burns.
He chuckles softly, straightening his lab coat. "But at least you didn't damage the equipment this time. Small victories, hmm?" His eyes flick toward Thomas, his smile thinning into something smug. "That's enough data collection for today. Take him to the nurses' ward."
God, that smile. That same smile he always gives when he's pleased with himself. I want to wipe it off his face sometimes.
Thomas is quiet as he helps me up. His grip is steady but cautious, like he's afraid I might break. Maybe I will. My legs feel weak, heavy and I can't tell if the dizziness is from blood loss or fatigue. I lean into him without thinking, one arm over his shoulder, and he leads me out of the room.
The corridor feels endless, the white lights too bright. The faint buzz of the fluorescent bulbs burrows into my skull. My feet drag slightly against the floor, and I just focus on following his steps.
"Sorry, 004," Thomas says suddenly, his voice low. It takes me a second to process the words. "You pushed yourself so hard, you didn't hear us calling for you to stop. We had no choice but to use the collar."
I turn my head toward him, and even through the haze, I catch the expression on his face. It's not the usual blank professionalism, it's guilt. Real guilt. Nobody looks like that here.
"Yeah," I manage to say, my voice rasping. "Don't worry about it."
He presses his lips together, saying nothing more as he helps me through the ward doors.
The nurse barely glances at me when we arrive, just gestures toward the bed. Thomas sets me down carefully, like he's handling something fragile. "I need to get back," he says quietly, his words tired. "...Just try to rest."
I nod, or at least I think I do. He hesitates for a second, maybe about to say something else, but then he just sighs and leaves.
The nurse moves through her motions efficiently. She replaces my blood-stained clothes with fresh ones and mutters something about how lucky I am that the bleeding stopped on its own. I just sit there and let her work. When she's done, she gives me a short nod and steps out.
The silence that follows feels too big.
I push myself off the bed slowly, every muscle protesting. My limbs feel like lead, but I need to get back to my room. The guards are already waiting by the door as I leave, they always are.
Each step down the hallway is an effort. My hand slides along the cold wall for balance. I can sense the guards behind me, always keeping their distance, their hands close to their guns. They wouldn't help me if I fell, they never do. They'd just drag me back.
How long do I have to keep doing this?
Every day, every test, every pain… for what? To make me stronger? To prove something to my father, who won't even come to see me? Sometimes I wonder if he even remembers i'm here. Maybe it's better that way.
By the time I reach my room, my vision's starting to tunnel again. I press my forehead against the cold metal door and let out a shaky breath. The chill feels good against my feverish skin. I could just stay here, like this.
But the guards are watching. Waiting. Always watching as if I might slash out at any second.
I drag my hand to the pad and open the door. The lights inside sting my eyes. My legs feel too heavy to move. Maybe I'll just lie down right here on the floor again and...
"004! You're finally back, I was starting to get worried... Wait!"
His voice cuts through everything.
I blink, lifting my head. 012 stands in front of me, his green eyes wide with concern. He looks… worried but also relieved, and it does something strange to my chest.
Before I can say anything, he steps closer and reaches up to touch my face. His hand is cool against my burning skin. I can't help it, I lean into his touch. His palm fits against my cheek so perfectly it almost hurts.
"What happened to you?" he asks softly.
I don't want him to see me like this, weak, half-broken. I want to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. "Don't worry about it," I mumble. "Just need some sleep."
He frowns, clearly not convinced, his thumb brushing lightly against my jaw. The small motion makes my pulse skip. I can barely stand anymore, and he must see it, because he lets out a quiet sigh.
"Okay," he says gently. "At least let me help you to your bed."
He slips his arm around me and guides me carefully across the room. His warmth seeps through the thin fabric of my clothes. I sink down onto the bed, and he stays there, hovering close, worry written across every inch of his face.
For a moment, neither of us says anything. Then 012 kneels beside the bed, bringing himself to my level. His hands find mine, warm, steady, and I can feel my heart slow just a little.
"Get some rest, 004," he murmurs. "If you want to talk when you wake up, I'm here to listen."
He gives my hand a soft squeeze, and the tension in my chest eases. I want to tell him thank you. But the words don't come out. I just nod weakly, afraid that if I speak, my voice will break. My head finds the pillow and it feels so soft.
He starts to let go of my hand, but instead of leaving, he sits down beside the bed, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him even through the haze. Then, gently, he begins to run his fingers through my hair.
The motion is soft. Soothing. I can't remember the last time someone touched me like this. With such… care.
My eyes grow heavy. The ache in my body dulls. The world fades slowly around the edges until all that's left is his touch, his quiet breathing, the steady rhythm of calm I'd almost forgotten could exist.
And for the first time in a long, long while…I fall asleep without nightmares.
______________________
When my eyes open again, everything feels… wrong. The silence is too heavy. The air too still. For a second, I forget where I am... something's off.
I sit up sharply, heart pounding. The room looks different. The beds,Wait. Where's 012?
My gaze sweeps the room in a panic, but then my eyes land on the strangest sight imaginable: the top bunks has been stripped of its sheets, and 012 bed is now… covered. Draped in fabric and tucked around the frame like some kind of...
"…a fort?" I whisper out loud.
What in the world is he doing?
Before I can even begin to make sense of it, the door slides open with a soft click. 012 steps in, balancing two plates of food in his hands. He freezes when he sees me sitting up, then his face lights up with that familiar, bright smile that always seems to cut straight through the gloom of this place.
"Oh! You're awake!" he says, voice warm and relieved. He sets the plates down on the nightstand and rushes over. Before I can react, his hand presses against my forehead.
"I was starting to worry," he murmurs. "You felt like you had a fever before, but it's gone now."
His touch is cool against my skin. I blink, still trying to catch up. "Erm… yeah. I guess I'm fine. How long was I asleep?"
"About three hours," he says casually.
Only three? Normally, I'm out for the rest of the day after a test like that. I rub the back of my neck, glancing over his shoulder, and my eyes fall again on the fort.
"What's with that?" I ask, pointing at it.
012 beams like a proud child. "It's a fort!"
"Well, yeah," I can't help but laugh softly. "I can see that. But… why?"
"You looked like you needed a break from the prying eyes," he says, nodding toward the two-way mirror on the wall. "And what better way to do that than a blanket fort?"
For a second, I don't know what to say. The gesture hits me somewhere deep within.
Before I can respond, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward it. "Come on!"
"Wait, 012..."
But he's already tugging me inside, pulling back one of the sheets. I stumble slightly and fall onto his bed, landing against the mattress with a quiet thump.
I look up and… it's incredible.
The inside of the fort glows faintly from the soft light filtering through the sheets. One of them has little stars drawn all over it, hand-sketched in pen, uneven but beautiful. There's something so him about it.
A moment later, he crawls inside after me, holding both plates. "I was worried you wouldn't wake up in time, so I brought you food too," he says, offering one to me.
I blink at him, still half in disbelief. "Thanks," I mumble, taking the plate. "But… how did you even manage this?"
He grins. "Well, I talked to the scientist on duty today." He gestures toward the observation window. "Asked if I could make a fort. And if I could borrow a pen. He seemed a little unsure at first, but then he said yes. I think his name was Dr. Thomas."
Thomas? So that's what this is about. Maybe he really did feel guilty for what happened earlier. Not that I blame him, it's just another experiment, another day.
I start eating quietly, realising only then how hungry I am. The food tastes better than usual, maybe because I'm not alone. When I finish, 012 takes my plate and sets it on the floor beside his.
We sit side by side on his bed, close enough that our shoulders nearly touch. For a while, neither of us says anything. He stares up at the fabric ceiling above us, where the drawn stars scatter like a little galaxy.
"Do you like stars, 012?" I ask softly.
He nods, his expression softening. "Yeah… when I was younger, my family and I used to go stargazing all the time." His smile falters slightly, wistful. "I always loved watching the stars. It made the world feel… big, you know?"
Something in my chest twists. I remember the nights I used to do the same, with Noah.
"Me and my brother used to go stargazing too," I say before I can stop myself.
His head turns so fast I almost laugh. "You have a brother?"
The curiosity in his voice makes me hesitate. I haven't talked about Noah in… ages. The thought of him used to hurt too much. But for some reason, with 012, it doesn't sting as sharply.
"Yeah," I admit quietly. "A twin brother. His name's Noah."
"Noah," he repeats softly. "That's a nice name. Can you tell me more?"
I can't help the small smile that creeps onto my face. "He's older by a few minutes. Probably the smartest person I've ever known. He's… awkward, sometimes. But he always cared about me in his own way."
The smile fades before I realise it. "Until…"
I trail off. The memory rushes back like a cold wave.
"Until what?" 012 asks gently, reaching out and taking my hand. His thumb rubs over my knuckles, warm and steady. That small gesture, it makes me want to keep talking.
"Until one day, we were attacked by an Awakener," I say quietly. "I didn't have a choice. I had to take the Lunex Vial. My uncle died trying to protect us, and Noah was seriously hurt. When I woke up, I was here and I never saw him again."
The ache in my chest tightens. My other hand lifts instinctively to my temple, trying to dull the headache forming there. I wonder if Noah's okay. If he still hates me.
Then I feel it, warmth against my back. Arms wrapping around me.
012 pulls me into a hug without a word. His head rests against my shoulder, and his voice is soft when he speaks. "I'm so sorry, 004."
His voice makes something inside me tremble. His face is buried in my shoulder, and I can feel his breath against my skin. It's too close, too gentle. I don't know how to handle this kind of warmth, it feels dangerous in all the ways that aren't supposed to exist here.
I swallow hard. "What about you, 012?" I ask, voice low. "What about your family?"
He hesitates, then pulls back slightly, his eyes catching the soft light. There's sadness there, quiet and raw.
"Oh sorry, I..." guilt rises within me for asking.
He exhales and lets himself fall backward onto the bed, staring up at the drawn stars. "No… it's okay," he says. "But, if I'm gonna tell you, you gotta come lie down too. It's a story best told under the stars."
He pats the space beside him, eyes flicking toward me with a tiny smile. "Lie down next to me?"
My heart lurches. I'm sure my face is red, but I force myself to move anyway, slowly lowering beside him. The space between us feels fragile, barely there.
For a long moment, we just lie there, side by side, staring up at the fake stars that seem to glow in the dim light. It almost feels like we've escaped. Like we're somewhere else entirely.
Then, after a long breath, 012 begins quietly,"Well… a few years back…"