Exhale.

A puff of breath in the form of an icy mist. His fragile body curled into a ball. The cold steel pressing against his skin. His hair thin as cobwebs covered his face, casting a shadow on his lifeless crimson red orbs.

The room is small, shaped like a rectangle, a three by three room. It is made entirely of iron. Barren of anything to give comfort, be it light or a comfortable bed. The constant humming noise of the ventilation fills the room with a deep monotonous sound. The only thing reminding him that he's still alive was the stinging coldness in his lungs.

There was a beeping red light at the corner of the room. He stared at it, eyes void of emotion. A camera. They were watching. They always do.

He inhaled a bit too fast. The cold got stuck in his throat. A weak cough escaped his chapped lips. There was no strength in them. His breath a mere wheeze, burning through the tube in his windpipe.

A static sound. And then the voice came. "Cut the fucking act and calculate properly. You've still got 34 hours left and that's not even halfway through." The voice was loud, he winced. It was a shame for his lack of vocal chords. He really was about to give him a middle finger but his fingers simply wouldn't leave the warmth of his chest.

That's what he is. A guinea pig. A lab rat. Ever since he acquired this power, he simply became nothing but something for them to dissect, to test and play with.

He wanted nothing to do with this. He's not even a decade old. He wishes to be free.

But what awaits him out there is nothing. Nothing but a big wide world of grey, devoid of colour. Or reason. No place to go to. No one to look up to or a dream to strive for. Not even his parents wanted him.

His body shivered. His heartbeat weakens, his mind tires from all the numbers. He felt cold, truly so. Spots formed in his eyes, shrinking them, seeping through the empty space of his skull. Even a body with zero oxygen left can feel pain.

He has been marked for death numerous times in the past. But lady death kept turning a blind eye, like a fickle mistress luring him back with promises of comfort, but never fulfilling them.

But this time, she might actually take him.

His finger's grip on his light blue garment loosened. Black encompasses his vision, the freezing air seeps into him fully.

There was a voice. He couldn't hear them. His hearings are drowned, muffled as his consciousness falters at a rapid rate.

And then warmth. His body feels elevated. There were lights, piercing through his cold eyelids. He wanted to open them and see. Has he died? He has to be.

And there was a noise. Many of them, as if greeting and welcoming him. They were far but close as well. Their voices are light as whispers. The cold slowly leaves him. He leans into the source of the warmth. He could finally breathe after 14 continuous hours of that experiment.

He is calm.

His body fell. It hit the floor with a thud. His head throbbed as he was forcefully awakened to a world of pain. He cradled his head with his arms, as he opened his eyes, glaring at the assailant.

"Don't think you can rest after failing, you bastard." The man seethes, dusting off the sleeves of his pristine white coats. "Get ready, we're gonna have to do some modification to that weak to you. We're gonna have to redo every fucking thing tomorrow again."

The man gave him one last glare before he slammed the door shut. He screams right outside for the others to shut up. They did just that.

He rubbed the side of his head, soothing the pain as he uses whatever power he has left in his body to crawl over to his mattress.

His body goes limp immediately on its soft features. He closed his eyes, something threatened to leak out of it. He chewed on his gums, iron permeating his mouth after he had accidentally pricked it. A choke bubbled in his throat.

Lady death abandoned him yet again.

A sigh of relief.

Yomikawa Aiho stretched. A pop or two from her back speaks volumes of the amount of work she had put in these past few weeks. Her tank top did little to hide her assets as a few eyes appeared to be glued to the melons that decorated her body. A few nosebleeds didn't seem to bother her at all.

She stood up. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen," her booming, commanding voice garnered every attention in the office. On her hand is a file. "Intel just came in. And what I have on my hand here, is exactly what we all have been waiting for."

Murmurs spread across the room, as staff members all seemed to share the same sense of accomplishment and excitement. Yomikawa smiled, wiping it seconds later. She cleared her throat, as her jovial nature could not contain itself for too long. "We have the locations, the blueprint, their security, and the key figures." There was awe in the room.

She gestured for two of her subordinates, the two evenly distributed a copy of the information. "For too long this operation has been going on under our noses. I hate to think that there are children, orphans nonetheless, to be taken advantage of. The fact that this has not been noticed is nothing short of a miracle."

Her anger began to flow from her eyes. "I have vowed to root them out of the system at all costs. And by all means, I will begin with this one. They will pay for this." Her voice raised another octave, as the fear and anger from her words began to wear off.

A hand is raised amidst the crowd of worked up Anti-Skills. "Can the informan be trusted?" The woman asks.

Yomikawa nods. "The informant is a friend of mine, whose name I will keep anonymous for confidentiality reasons. For now, we will send a couple of scouts out, following up on the exact locations we have obtained to confirm the Intel. From there, we will proceed in full force to dismantle this facility." There was conviction in her voice, that the group agreed.

There were a few volunteers. All of which were sent out immediately. "With that out of the way, is there anything that you'd like to ask me, or anything else that I should elaborate further on?" No hands raised. She nods.

"Remember people, these children need our help. And by God we will give them it with the start of this Operation."

All kinds of chemicals were injected into his bloodstream. His eyes were bloodshot, his heartbeat was abnormally fast. His head was ringing and his vision was painful.

The anaesthetics hadn't worn out from the surgery done to modify his brain. The sews on his forehead were visibly swollen and began to bleed a little.

He feels his legs dragged on through the smooth concrete floorings, his shins bruised from the stairs. The entirety of his nervous system was numb. He can't feel shit.

Adderall, modafinil, adrenaline, caffeine. He was high on all kinds of things specifically made to increase brain power and stay awake. It was a surprise for everyone that he hadn't puked yesterday's dinner.

The two people dropped him gently. It wasn't out of genuine sympathy, more so they were afraid of actually hurting him. The sew on his head was still fresh after all.

The door closes tight. A lock of some kind can be heard. The door, like the wall, was also made of pure steel. The thickness made sure that no blast would penetrate through it. The only way this door would open with force was by melting it.

A static noise. "The big rule to remember was that thermal energy will always travel from hot to cold. Always!" The voice explains. "I can't believe I'm saying this shit again. A cold object can't transfer energy; it doesn't have to warm something up."

The ventilation opens. It's those constant sounds again. He could feel the air getting colder by the seconds. "Keep those energies in your barrier if you want to survive. We won't be getting you if things go south this time." He warns. The red flashes start.

He kept his head down, doing his best to get his bearings. He'll be here for a while. It's best to try and endure it all, do as they ask. Better completing this in a better shape then redo it all again in a worse shape. He's way more useful alive than dead, they told him earlier.

His brain starts working on the surrounding numbers. He could see them. The energies in the form of arrows in his mental vision. Their values vary.

"Wednesday, May 2nd, 2001. Project Accelerator. Experiment 1878, take 6. Objective: Permanent Subconscious Calculations." The same voice from before. It was monotone, just as cold as the air around him has become.

"48 hours remaining."

'Here it goes again.' Like so much of steering it, the surrounding energies began to surround him, keeping him warm in this cold, tiny dark world of his.

Her fingers tapped impatiently on the surface of her desk. Eyes glued on the files. Her facial features were as void of emotion as her spirit. She waited.

In her peripheral vision, she spotted a woman approaching her. She turned towards her.

"Anything yet?" She asked.

Her eyes twitched. "It's not even one full day. Would you relax for a bit?" She replied, her voice is timid, having to yell at her senior is something that she rarely does.

"Every second of us doing nothing means more suffering for those kids!" She retaliated, meeting his gaze head on.

"And stressing yourself out isn't going to do any good either." She continued. "Look, it's not everyday that a van with kids inside just suddenly pops into existence, or a man with a scientist coat coming out of an abandoned warehouse. You have to be willing to wait until you get the evidence you need."

A tough pill to swallow, but the truth was still the truth. She let out a sigh and slumped back into her chair. Her eyes gazed through the rows of empty cubicles, completely uninterested. "And what are you doing here then? Shouldn't you be home?" She queried the woman.

She shrugs. "There's a frat party going on across my apartment. Bunch of lousy college kids. Not worth staying home for."

She snickered lightheartedly, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "Not the type to party, I see? Well that's a damn shame." She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She can only blush, her gaze averting towards the floor. Tessou Tsuzuri isn't one to take jokes that well. Especially when delivered in such a teasing way.

Yomikawa got up, nudging her arm with her elbow. "So which do you prefer, whiskey, scotch, gin?"

"I don't drink."

"Great. Let's have a beer instead." She said, pulling her by the wrist.

She can only sigh, her response forming into a painful, guttural moan as she is being led outside. "Is the bar outside not closed yet?" She questioned.

She groaned. "Apparently." Yomikawa tilts her head. The vague answer backfired with this sight of her captain. God damn her and her healthy young adult mind. "... Yes." She murmurs, eyes avert away.

The blue haired woman grinned at the flushing woman, patting her on the back. Perhaps a little too hard. But like hell dare to voice it. "Don't take things too seriously, you should totally enjoy your youth while you still can! Maybe you'll find yourself a nice man. Nice kids like you don't come around that often. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

She groaned even more. The grin turns into a boisterous laughter. The flush turns into a full blown blush. The majority of her face was now a shade of red. The laugh subsides a while later, but the smile still remains.

A face flashes into her head. There was someone who kept showing up in her mind, laughing. Hee was vibrant and lively. He never stopped smiling.

Her heart beat rapidly increased, making her pulse quicken even more. Her gaze glazed. She sighed for whatever time it was already that day, an unfocused look of longing in her face.

"Oh-ho, got someone in your mind already, huh?" She teases. She placed a firm grip on her shoulder. "Who was it? What's he like? ... or was it a she? No wait, don't tell me yet, let's get a glass first!" She said, continuing her march with hed unwillingly pulled into this charade of hers.

Out of nowhere her phone rang. She fished it out of her pants' pocket. It's one of her peers. She answered it, a sound of heaved breath catches her off guard.

"Captain," the voice said in a rush. "It's real. The information is real." There was a sound of an engine being started and gravel crunching. The voice trailed off into silence. And then the call disconnects.

Her hand lowers, a dark expression shifts into her face. "Gather everyone." Was all she said. She nods.

The fabric of his clothes are beginning to tear apart as he pulls them over his sagging body, keeping them tightly around him. His breath laboured, his muscles aching.

Nothing had entered his mouth in nearly 2 days. No nourishment to replenish his bodily heat, not even enough water to wet his parched, cracked lips. With nothing to fill him up and with the constant blood flows going on an overdrive, it was only a matter of time before everything started to shut down.

The very air he was breathing is killing him. Its temperature was practically zero, crystal ice. What a joy.

His eyes are clamped shut. He fears that if he were to open them, they'd freeze. There's a weight sitting on his chest that has built up as he lies here. The constant drum of his own heart echoes through the cold walls.

Yet even with all that, his brain won't stop calculating. His mind was filled with numerical values. Even in the state of unconsciousness, parts of his brain are functioning. His survival instinct simply won't let him die.

It has been 26 hours since he first noticed this change. 37 hours since he entered this room. And a week since this whole experiment started. The speed at which his brain was calculating was slow. Far beneath his capabilities. But the fact that he was doing it without even thinking about it is what made it special.

All the energy around him was flowing in one direction, towards him. To keep him warm and stay alive through all this. Yet one thing about those energies for sure...

It was running out of heat.

He's reached the goal of the experiment, so why aren't they here? They were monitoring him, they always do. His brain activity and survivability was their utmost priority. They should've also noticed it when he was asleep.

So why isn't he out already?

Were they seriously waiting for the timer to run out?

His forever frowning face tugged even lower. He brought forth whatever power he had left in him to lift his head a few inches up, opened his eyes and glared towards the direction of the camera.

He waited for a minute.

Two minutes.

And then five minutes.

Nothing.

Oddly enough, there was no sound from outside. He remembered distinctly that there was always a whisper.

This time, there's nothing.

...

Where is everybody?

Black trucks rammed through cement walls, breaking through with much ease. Following behind is another black truck. They came to a halt halfway into the building, doors on its back opened as men in dark uniforms and armour, weapons in hand, raised and ready to be shot.

They all poured out, red lasers scrambled all over the dark, dusty warehouse. There were many crates all over the place. It was clear that the place hadn't been touched in years, perhaps decades.

All of them moved in two file lines, walking towards the furthest side of the place.

A hatch with a hollowed crate lay. With a single finger gesture, two people moved over to force the thing open. Their sheer combined power couldn't open it. It was to be expected, so they came prepared.

If them ramming against the wall hadn't tipped them off, then the explosives will. The blast echoed throughout the entire place, its closed and tight body reverberating back from the building's floor. The noise was intense, making the place shake with large vibrations.

Dust filled the entire corridor. The people in the dark uniforms dropped down on the floor. They raised their weapons, lights on full. They walked through the entire facility, breaking into every room and closet they could find.

They found plenty of people. All of them wore a similar pristine white lab coat. All immediately surrendered when they saw the lit up weapons. None however, were willing to reveal the locations of the Child Errors.

They swept through the building, quietly and efficiently, breaking into everything in their path. The door in the back was blown open. A few of them made a small dash. Those who did are neutralised.

They found a surgical room. The scent of fresh blood instantly grabbed their interest. They didn't know what they needed to use this room for, so they proceeded with caution.

At the very end of the corridor, they found a room. Monitors filled the room. A table covered in report papers. No scientist was found in the room.

Yomikawa took off her helmet. Confused look spread on her face. Her eyes examine through the files for any more clues of any more supposed facilities similar to this one that might actually contain the Child Errors.

Yet she found nothing out of them. Though she did learn something else. Such as the existence of a project known as the Project Accelerator, revolving around a single child.

She visibly paled at the atrocity, the disgusting tragedy of it. These experiments. It is simply inhumane to allow this to go on like this. This is wrong. The more she read, the more felt like she was in a horror movie.

What are they doing? Who are they doing this to? Why would they do this? All sorts of questions were plaguing Yomikawa.

"Captain?" A voice called out to her. She raised her head towards the source. The previously dead monitor was turned to life. The people surrounding said monitor was enraptured with what the monitor showed.

It showed a room. Devoid of all furniture, no lights entered except from the outside, creating a gloomy atmosphere in the room. The omni-present humming noise was heard from the monitor, not a living creature could be heard. But they see.

The monitor showed a child of unknown gender, no older than 10, laying on the floor of the room, hugging their knees to themself. A light blue cloth serves as its only cover. The slight raise of their sides were the only indicator that the child itself was still alive.

They all share a look of deep concern. And then a question came up. "Where is it?" They've checked every nook and cranny they could see. Yet they haven't seen the child at all.

One of them took a scientist by the collar, pointing towards the monitor and demanded that they give up the location of the child, lest he risk losing his life.

The man refused.

And he was served a powerful blow to his head. The man ended up taking a beating from 4 people with armoured suits before finally giving in.

Yomikawa herself with two of her peers went straight back towards the surgical room. Holding in a bit of tears as she realised what the smell of blood could indicate.

An entrance in the form of a stairway that leads up was behind the chart, and was all but hidden from sight. There was barely any light up there, but they braved through the discomfort and the smell to get up there.

And up there it was. It was an oval door, purely made of steel with a thick round window on its top. Its watertight, round handle sealed the entrance.

The handle was hard to turn, taking the force of the three. And even more strength was required to simply pull it open. They wondered if these scientists kept secret an easier way to open it.

When they finally managed to open the door, a surge of cold air blew out of the chamber. They shiver even in their armour, the eerie sensation of being below ground was just too different.

Yomikawa without her mask feels her teeth chatter. Her eyes might freeze if she so much even left it open for more than a minute.

But they didn't care. Because the sight before them was unbearable.

The body lay limp. Wrapped in a light blue rag, lines of frozen blood on its forehead, some pooled near it, creating dark red puddles of crimson.

Their hearts pounding like drum beats. A mere instant of horror.

"Dear God..."

Hi, how are ya! BP4L here, just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you reading. Please do leave a review! That's the fuel for my motivations right there.

New chapter next week!