Collaboration with Glorifiedscapegoat.
The man had seen a number of astounding things since the beginning of Horizon Labs. He'd seen people ignite themselves and burn for ten minutes straight before the heat became too intense to control. He'd seen women who could snap their bones and repair them into diamond-like hardness, and men who could breathe underwater for hours like creatures from a child's fairy tale.
There had been hundreds of experiments―and plenty of failures―but nothing pleased the man more than to inch steadily toward success.
The man flipped through his notes, hastily scribbled on a pad of yellow paper. He'd been too excited to wait until he returned to his desktop, too eager to mark down his findings. He'd tuned out Rikiga's frantic mumbling as he'd scrawled down the results, so quickly that now he realized it might have been just a bit foolish. His handwriting blurred together into chicken scratch when his mind raced; he couldn't tell if the symbols stretched out before him properly reflected the miracle he'd seen unfurl like a flower.
The man exhaled and set down the notepad. He supposed he could always review the camera footage to supplement the places where his memory had failed him. The basement cameras ran on their own system; Rikiga backed them up on tapes at the end of each shift, and the man kept them stored in a locked box deep within the records room. The box looked musty and old from a distance, often mistaken as out-of-date paper records from the First Trials.
Although the First Trials had been a pivotal moment in the history of human development, much of Horizon Laboratories' research had advanced well beyond the experiments that transformed prisoners into advanced human lifeforms.
Project Valiant had proven to be a much larger success than even the man could have predicted. That these creatures could breed in the wild and produce such powerful offspring was nothing short of a miracle.
The man reclined in his rolling chair as he pulled up the record of VC-407. The violent red TERMINATED flashed across the boy's smiling face; the man found it ironic that this was the photo the agents had provided. The boy certainly hadn't smiled since waking up inside Horizon Laboratories. It didn't look right on his face.
VC-10 had the ability to craft illusions. The VC's powers had been minimal and pathetic; nothing the man found particularly useful. Somehow he'd managed to escape in the catastrophic breakout spearheaded by VC-17, and his lack of hostility and minimal threat level had kept him off the Lab's radar for years.
How did someone with the power of illusion father something as powerful as VC-407?
The man clicked through the boy's file, reading over the report of his chaotic, telekinetic abilities. The survivors of the destruction in the small town of Okaida had written reports of the boy's ability to heft their coworker into the air with ease and launch their cars as if they were made entirely of feathers.
It made no sense―but it was fascinating.
The man's heart rate sped up at the memory of VC-407's eyes rolling in the back of his head as the experimental serum twisted through his body. The air around the room had shifted in that moment, the temperature rising as if someone had cranked up the thermostat. When the dust settled, as Rikiga unstrapped the boy's unconscious body and brought him to the stretcher, the man had inspected the thermometers. He'd discovered that the mercury within them had boiled over and spilled onto the floor, leaking down the wall like droplets of silver blood.
So much chaos had erupted in a single moment. The metal tray full of screws and pins had launched across the room as if it'd been fired from the barrel of a gun, denting the metal wall and shattering the protective glass separating him from Rikiga and the man. The glass had been tested in a variety of intense environments, earthquakes and tornados and increased pressure, and the boy had shattered it with only a thought.
Still more fascinating.
After the experiment, 407 had slept for a day. A high fever consumed him about six hours after the end of the trial, and the man had monitored the boy's cell to keep the temperature suitable for a quick recovery. It wouldn't do to have his subject perish from something as pathetic as a minor fever. The man took the opportunity to take several samples of the boy's blood and compare the cells post-trial to those he'd tested prior to the boy's arrival. The results were still pending, but the man's own blood buzzed with anticipation; he was certain the readings would be groundbreaking.
407's test results, and ideas for how he could push the tests further, all but consumed the man's mind. Everything else was secondary, boring, but other people didn't understand that. They kept asking him about other VCs, most especially VC-221.
Before his successful test with 407, the man had approved 221's transport to Section F, so that the boy would be closer to his research lab and out of Officer Rashi's tainting influence. But now 221's business interfered with his current research obsession. He didn't have time to be worrying about lackluster subjects and their paltry problems. The last time top brass harangued him about VC-221's transport, the man farmed the task out to another of his cohorts, hungrily scribbling down the results of the blood test into the ever-expanding record he kept of his experiments with 407.
At one point he'd thought 221 might be the answer to his research, but the boy's subdued mentality and weakening power disappointed him. His telepathy had seemed a useful asset―but he had begun to suspect that they had already broken him beyond repairing. He'd been so convinced that 221 had caused the riot…but the boy hadn't instigated another jailbreak, nor any attempts to control the officer the man had sent into his hall without scramblers to test him.
It seemed his calculation of 221's abilities and mental fortitude had been grossly inaccurate. A VC who couldn't perform was no more useful than a regular human, and he didn't have the time or resources to devote to studying a lame duck..
For now, his focus leaned toward 407.
Two days had passed since the experiment. Shortly after the boy's fever broke, the man had observed a unique change in his physical appearance. He'd responded immediately to Rikiga's frantic phone call, eager to see the results of the serum.
The boy's hair had lost much of its pigmentation. The dark brown strands were now silky white, and the bleached hair was not restricted to just his head, but across his entire body. In addition to the shift in his coloration, the boy's irises had turned a dark shade of red. The man pried the boy's eyelids open and stared at them; there were purple flecks in the iris, the pupil a tiny pinprick of black. The man jotted down his findings and focused on the final sign of the boy's transformation. The physical changes seemed to indicate that there might be some hiccups in the serum's make-up, but any impurities in it were easily fixed. He'd get his technicians on that.
The man regarded his notes with frenzied excitement. If the serum had affected 407 so intensely while the power inhibitors kept him weakened, what kind of damage could he cause without the blocks? The man had visions of city-wide craters, bodies felled in the streets. It wasn't to his taste, but he thought Fennec might be interested in the weaponized aspects of the VCs' powers…. He'd have to figure out to explain why the VC was still alive if it came to that, though, and the man didn't want to give up this intimate collection of juggernauts just yet.
Maybe even ever.
⁂
Shion scrubbed his fingers through his wet hair, working the shampoo through each strand. A gift from Rikiga―and, therefore, a gift from Lab Coat. Shion hadn't wanted to accept it, but the grime clinging to his skin begged him to reconsider his nonverbal protest.
With a muted nod, he'd taken the tiny bottle of shampoo from Rikiga's fingers and retreated to the tiny shower shoved in the corner of his room. He'd been given a new uniform, and while he felt it a bit unfair that he was the only one permitted clean clothes, the exhaustion trembling through him and the encouraging smiles from his friends urged him onward.
Shion worked the remnants of the shampoo over his body, refusing to look down at himself. He knew what he'd seen when he did.
He'd first noticed the red stripe beneath his eye after he'd woken up. His eyes caught his reflection in the metal mask strapped across Hitomi's face as she turned to stare at him. The stark white of his hair terrified him, almost as much as the bloody color of his irises. He couldn't stand to see the changes that'd consumed his body―couldn't stand to see the physical evidence of what Lab Coat had done to him.
After he stripped down behind the curtain and tossed the old uniform onto the floor, Shion realized the red mark traveled all the way around his body. When he bent closer to look at it, snaking up the back of his arm, he realized it was tough and raised, a scar of sorts beneath the surface of his skin. He let out a miserable sob and covered his mouth, not wanting his friends to hear him as he sobbed beneath the comfort of the running water.
"I think it looks cool!" Rin called from the other cell. "Your hair, I mean."
"Shh, Rin," Hitomi shushed. "Leave him be."
"What? I'm just trying to be supportive! And it does look cool."
Despite the terror and sorrow trembling through him, Shion felt a smile tugging at his lips. He'd been sleeping for over a day, but he felt like he needed another nap. His head was muzzy, his thoughts unfocused and strange.
He didn't want to think about how he looked. He could barely recognize himself when he'd gawked into his reflection; the boy staring back at him was a product of Horizon Laboratories, more creature than man, and no matter how much he railed against it, Shion would never be able to escape the eye of the Lab now.
"Stop that," he muttered to himself. "Now's not the time."
Shion cranked the water off and grabbed the towel Rikiga had given to him. Another gift. When Lab Coat came down to check his vitals―and the changes to his appearance―he'd made good on his end of the bargain. He'd informed Shion that Nezumi was relocated to another Section of the Lab due to issues with the head officer in his old Section. Lab Coat refused to delve into the details of the issues, or the Section in which Nezumi had been moved, but he assured Shion that Nezumi was unharmed and well.
"Of course," Lab Coat said with a pleasant smile, "if you'd like more information, you're welcome to assist me in another experiment after you've recovered a bit."
Shion toweled himself off slowly. He wasn't in any rush to return to business as usual. He knew his friends didn't judge him for what had happened, but Shion couldn't stand the knowledge that he looked so different from the rest of them now. His hair had been bleached of color and his eyes glinted like bloody holes in the dim lights. The ruby marking on his flesh stood out like a burn, a giant sign that Shion wasn't fully human and never had been.
What would his mother think, if he saw her again? Oh god, what would Nezumi?
The part of Shion that had separated during his time at the Lab―the part that urged him to be strong, the part that'd pulled the others into his scheme to escape―shoved to the forefront of his mind. He choked down the sobs that threatened to crack out of his throat and composed himself.
He decided that crying wouldn't matter. He might have looked different, but it didn't mean his plan was any less likely to succeed, or that his loved ones would love him any less when they saw him again. Shion patted himself dry and tossed the towel aside, grabbing the fresh jumpsuit and pulling it on.
With the majority of the scarlet mark concealed, Shion felt a bit more like himself. He ruffled his hair, trying not to imagine the look of horror and disgust that might flash across Nezumi's face if he could see him now, and stepped out from behind the curtain.
Rin looked up. They sat on the edge of their cot, kicking their feet idly back and forth. Their eyes softened as Shion drifted into view. "How was it?"
"Cold," Shion responded, climbing onto his own cot.
"Boo, that sucks." Rin flopped onto their back and stared up at the ceiling. "What I wouldn't give for some hot water in this place."
Hitomi, who'd been crouching next to the glass in her own cell, pressed her hand against the wall. "Are you feeling a bit better?"
"A bit," Shion said, though his heart wasn't in it.
"That's good." Her lips twitched back into a reassuring smile. "I know you probably don't want to hear this, but it really doesn't look that awful."
Shion sniffed. "Thanks."
"And besides," Rin interjected softly, "when we get out of here, you can always dye it back." They ran a finger through their hair, twisting one of the strands around their finger. "I've been thinking about what color I'd like to do my own. I'm thinking red and gold. Maybe some orange highlights. If I'm gonna make a name for myself, I'd better have a look down, y'know?"
"Oh, Rin," Hitomi tutted.
Aki hadn't said much since Shion woke up and realized how badly he'd changed, but when Shion turned to look at him, he offered a pitiful smile. There was a deep sadness behind his eyes, but in them, Shion could see the determination to escape steadily boiling.
"I think you'd look good with red hair," Shion murmured to Rin. He stretched out on the pillow, feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. He could feel a strange pulse in the back of his skull, the shudder of his telekinesis licking at his brain and pleading for release. Like a caged dog, Shion could feel the desire to burst out and twist toward freedom itching through him.
He caged the rush of strength. Since waking up, it'd been stronger than Shion could ever remember it being. He wondered if whatever Lab Coat had injected him with had affected his powers in the same way it had affected his body. He struggled to keep himself calm for fear of releasing his hold too soon. If Lab Coat knew that his powers were still shuddering through him as powerfully as they'd ever been, he would terminate Rikiga and inject Shion with the inhibitors himself. Then they'd all be well and truly trapped.
Shion rested his chin on the pillow. Rin and Hitomi lapsed into a calm conversation. Shion felt their voices drifting around him like a warm blanket, smothering the terror that rocked through him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the comfort of the shower settle over him. He forced his desperate mind to calm, focusing on the excitement of freedom rather than the misery that'd seized him the moment he awoke.
Soon, he told himself.
Soon, he'd take this whole Lab to the ground.