Chapter Text
The only sound in the laboratory was the soft hum emanating from the large, tube-like container in the center of the lab. A soft blue light pulsed from the liquid as it softly bubbled.
Inside the tube slept a young child– roughly 6 years old— hugging its legs tightly to its chest. It breathed softly through the mask on its face, eyes closed. Floating in the liquid, tubes and wires supported its body, slowly pumping nutrients into its bloodstream.
A woman stepped up to the tube, looking up at the child in awe. “Experiment A-117. Successful,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
Someone followed her, stopping beside her and gazing up at the creation. “Indeed. Well done, Martyr. Your Sight was crucial in this experiment.”
“It's always a pleasure to work with you, Serpent.” She glanced at the person beside her. “I’m so relieved this one went so well. We’ll succeed, won’t we?”
“I’m actually rather concerned about this experiment,” Serpent’s head tilted slightly. “It has been having… dreams of late.”
“Dreams…?” Martyr turned her head towards Serpent. “Of what?”
“Death,” Serpent’s eyes didn’t leave the child. “Carnage. Massacre. At least, that’s what the brain waves have been translated to.”
“Impossible. We’ve only ever been broadcasting positive images,” Martyr looked at Serpent, aghast. “How could this possibly have happened?”
“Free will is often a curse."
“You mean… A-117…”
Serpent nodded solemnly. “Yes. If this continues, we might have to terminate–”
“No,” Martyr clenched her fists. “If we end it now, we might never see an experiment as successful as this. We only got here because of how compatible the subject was.”
“Martyr,” Serpent’s eyes slid over to her. “This… thing is dangerous by itself, and now it’s volatile given these dreams. If these violent thoughts continue, A-117 will pose an infinitely large threat to whatever society has finally stabilized to.”
Martyr walked up to the tube and placed a hand on the cool glass, looking up at the savior of the world. The soft sound of its breathing was the only thing reminding her that it was still human.
“No,” she repeated firmly as her fingers curled against the glass. “I’ll find a way to fix it. Just give me time. We have to continue. For the world. For peace. For the perfect hero.”