<hr>


    * * *


    In a stark and sterile underground laboratory lies concealed from the world, shrouded by jungles, nestled among hills and mountains where birds sing, signing the no tale to the masked secret.


    The walls were a blinding white, almost excessively pristine, reflecting the fluorescent lights that hummed above. The air carries a cold, clinical quality, permeated by the faint hum of machinery and the sporadic beeps of monitors, all witnessing the test results through the observational eyes of those who reside there.


    Rows of metal tables and glass enclosures line the room, each one meticulously organized with various scientific instruments and medical equipment. In a brightly lit room adjacent to the hallway, researchers in pristine white lab coats moved around as they were engrossed in their tasks, eyes fixed on the screens displaying complex data streams and charts.


    Their faces were obscured by masks and goggles, adding an impersonal, almost robotic air to their demeanor. Some were hunched over microscopes, meticulously examining samples. While the others typed furiously on their keyboards as they diligently inputted and analyzed data.


    One of the middle-aged men there leans closer to the monitor. "Look at these DNA sequences. The polymorphisms we''re observing in the samples from this specimen are unlike anything we''ve ever documented. His genetic markers respond to environmental stimuli in real time. And wow... this is, phenomenal..."


    The other replied while typing rapidly. "Indeed. The mitochondrial DNA analysis shows significant variations. We need to consider the implications of these findings on his metabolic rates. His physiological responses might also skew our data like the one from the A42 Site."


    Another one came closer from their back, adjusting her glasses. "Let''s not forget his heartbeat too. The electrocardiogram readings indicate arrhythmias that correlate with stress responses. We should analyze whether these anomalies are a direct result of his exposure to illicit substances or environmental toxins. Just add one more test for him!!?"


    The first man pointed at the screen projection in their front. "Look here! The blood pressure readings are consistently elevated two minutes after the injection. This could indicate chronic stress or exposure to harmful substances. We should consider how these factors interplay with his neurological development. We don''t want another living corpse from this serum."


    The room buzzed, with the soft murmur of scientific jargon. Papers and files were scattered across desks, filled with cryptic notes and diagrams. Despite the chaos, their movements had an unsettling efficiency, as if every action was part of a well-rehearsed routine. The researchers communicated in hushed tones, punctuated by the occasional beeps of machines and the rustle of their papers. Their focus was unwavering, driven by a cold, clinical determination to achieve their mysterious objectives.


    Regardless. Of what it cost.


    * * *


    <hr>


    In a stark, white-walled room, a young boy of eleven years old lay on a bed. His small frame was ensnared by a web of steel shackles and leather ties. Bruises marred his wrists, vivid red marks as a display of struggle and confinement. Yet, in a surreal twist, the crimson hue seemed to sink beneath his skin, as if some unseen force had drawn it away, leaving behind his original fair skin. His long, black hair cascaded down his back, a dark waterfall against the sterile whiteness of the boy''s surroundings. Clad in a simple white hospital gown, his emerald eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling – reflecting a world that felt distant and unreachable.


    Beside him, a machine hummed softly, its mechanical arm inserting a needle into his arm. A strange, glittering purple liquid flowed into his veins; and within moments, his body began to tremble violently – as if caught in the throes of a tempest. Pain etched itself across his scrunched face – and dark veins, like twisted roots, spread from the injection site, creeping up his arm and coiling around one side of his neck, with some of the inky tendrils reaching toward his heart.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    In that dream-like state, time lost all meaning. He felt trapped in a liminal space, where whispers echoed inside his mind – faint, indistinct murmurs that tugged at the edges of his consciousness. Blurry images flickered before his eyes, fragments of conversations and scenes from a past he could not fully grasp, memories that felt both familiar and foreign. They might be his – they might be not. After thirty agonizing minutes, his tremors gradually slowed down until they finally ceased, leaving him still and silent, with only the occasional rise and fall of his chest; indicating the life that persisted within him. For now, he had once again – survived this harrowing injection.


    Yet, the battle within him was far from over. A sensation akin to a ball of ice now burning inside his heart, concurrently with a darting pain and the unexpected intervals in between. And this always happens, with no way to ease it except endure like he always had thus far, for – an hour, if he were lucky.


    * * *


    While in another place.


    In the dimly lit, chilly corridor of the underground laboratory, a guard forcefully ushered a boy into a small, daunting room. Left with no choice, the boy began to walk, his footsteps resonating ominously off the concrete walls. The scene shifted, revealing several other children being thrust into similar rooms with equal harshness. Their wrists were secured by unique metal handcuffs, and collars adorned with sinister red lights that wrapped around their necks. Blindfolds obscured their vision, adding to this purposely disorientation. Within these chambers, the children faced wolves, each one twice the size of an ordinary wolf.


    Their growls filled the stifling silence, accompanied by the metallic clink of the chains restraining them. With its light gray downy fur that looks dirty, countless scars, and marks of sutures – their looks exude a downright spine-chilling, along with a touch of baleful presence.


    Suddenly, the lights on the children''s collars extinguished. With a metallic clank, the collars fell to the floor. The handcuffs resonated a sound akin to grinding gears – then swift to release, freeing their arms from any movement obstruction. The children then removed their blindfolds as if it were a natural response to the current situation, where it seemed it was no new stuff for them to experience. Sharp eyes that seemed out of place plastered on their youthful faces. They looked warily at the beast before them; a looming threat they needed to eliminate.


    Then out of nowhere, a shrill sound echoed through each room, followed shortly by a mechanical voice announcing to the children that their time had finally come. It was their test to see if they would survive this obstacle – or not. This challenge was meant to prove their worth to the organization, or they could only struggle to escape; clawing out of the misery from a gorge designated for those of no use and no value. However, saying that they would claw their way out in itself was an overstatement, as no one had ever survived, if they ever lost in this challenge.


    - "The fourth additional test on June 13, 2993. The batch of 137 group A, has officially begun." -


    The chain fell from the beast as it resumed the growl. Its tail was held stiffly in a horizontal position, poised to lunge at its presumed prey. After all, it was already a long time since it had been fed properly. The children in front of these wolves were a perfect meal to fill their bellies.


    *Groar*


    *Rawr*


    Saliva dripped between the menacing gleam of their sharpened teeth and fangs, pooling on the white vinyl sheet flooring, beneath their snarling mouths. Their claws scraped against the floor, producing a chilling, metallic screech as they charged forward. Their greedy eyes demand attention: saliva pools over their indignation at the taste that might come from the slab of meat before them.


    Eventually, the underground lab echoed with a cacophony of primal roars and desperate cries. The children who were already altered by the experiments, fought back with a mix of supernatural abilities. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, punctuated by the occasional scream of pain or shout of defiance against their conditions. The clash of bodies was chaotic, with the thud of heavy paws against the ground, the snap of jaws closing on empty air, and the dull thud of impacts – reverberating as the children used their enhanced strength to fend off the attackers.


    *Huff, huff, huff*


    Amidst the turmoil, there was an underlying rhythm of heartbeats, fast and frantic, a testament to the life and death struggle unfolding in the depths of this lab.


    * * *


    I had heard that, in the world of the living, there was a thing called luck… perhaps I wasn''t so lucky after all, for all I bore then was the silence upon my memories, lost in the back rows of my mind.


    -El’s First Note-