At first, Anthony didn't understand why he had woken up, but it became clear when he felt fingers wrapping tightly around his arm. Someone roughly shoved him to his feet. When Anthony's mouth opened to protest, the person slammed him against the wall, likely bruising him or breaking a rib. Despite the rough treatment, Anthony just smiled as his head tilted to the side. He rested his cheek against the cold iron wall, pretending to be as comfortable as he had ever been.

"Morning, Mr. Brooks! Aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" Anthony teased, instantly regretting his words as a sharp sting shot through his right arm.

Brooks looked as though he was on the verge of breaking Anthony's arm, but he managed to restrain himself from twisting it further. His dark brown hair was tied in a small bun, hanging loosely over his left eye.

"Shut it, Owl. Drugs are missing from the lab. Where are they?"

Anthony struggled to contain his amusement as his smile widened. He wriggled his body, trying to break free.

"Must you always expect the worst of me, Mr. Brooks?" he said with feigned sadness. "I have no reason to steal drugs, and besides, neither my shirt nor my pants have pockets to hide them in."

Brooks glanced at him, clearly skeptical, but his expression revealed that he partially believed Anthony. He released Anthony's arm but kept him pinned against the wall.

He was thinking.

Anthony kept silent, hoping it would increase his chances of being released. He knew that looking away would signal surrender, so he maintained his gaze.

Brooks seemed unsettled, especially since only half of Anthony was visible and a large purple eye stared at him. Brooks had always disliked how lifeless the eye looked, despite its childlike charm. Finally, Brooks stepped back, though not too far.

"You should have the students check on it. It looks worse by the day."

Anthony gave a hollow chuckle and turned to face him. He felt even more insulted knowing that Brooks was aware the students would likely do worse to him. He was sure they would remove the eye altogether.

There had been a girl who grew scales, and he remembered them plucking each one out. He could only recall the blood-curdling screams that echoed through the building, but he never saw her again. Just her trembling body being carried to her cell. It was maybe five years ago? He remembered the blood on her shirt and the bloody tweezers the woman held. At eight years old, he had been terrified, but he had grown accustomed to it. Luckily, he hadn't endured as much. He just-

He snapped out of his trance when he heard a 'clink.' A small plate had either been thrown or dropped onto the floor, with its contents leaking out. He saw a bit of green and red inside. It might have been soup, but it could also be dirty water with meat. Regardless, he bent down and picked up the bowl, hoping it could be salvaged. Dinner was dinner, and he had learned that the hard way.

"Handing me a bowl wouldn't kill anyone... Besides, I haven't done anything wrong yet," he said respectfully, worried he might get less than the two blocks of meat and a bit of creamy liquid. He looked inside the bowl, and his expression turned blank.

"Be grateful we even feed you," Brooks warned, making it to the door without Anthony even seeing him. "Besides, you're an 'Owl,' right? Raw meat should be fine."

Anthony felt his blood boil, and his hands trembled. He was ready to throw the bowl at Brooks but restrained himself. "Don't talk about my family that way," he said sweetly, making the warning somehow worse.

Brooks wore a cruel smirk. He knew how to get under Anthony's skin, and Anthony knew how to do the same to him. For now, though, he kept his secret until it was needed.

"Don't be such a sour face. I could call you an ant instead, considering your family isn't here anymore."

The air turned ice-cold, and Anthony's smile vanished. He was furious but stared at Brooks with piercing purple eyes. Despite his stillness, his gaze felt like it was tearing Brooks apart. "Leave."

Brooks felt an invisible grip around his throat, though no one was near him. He chose to listen, suddenly fearful for his life. He quickly exited the room, leaving behind only the loud 'click' and 'beep' of the security system activating.

As soon as Brooks was gone, Anthony hurled the plate at the wall, and its contents splattered on the floor. A cold grip enveloped his chest. Tears welled up in his eyes, but none fell. Instead, he wrapped his arms around himself as he collapsed to the ground. Despite the pain, only one thought echoed in his mind.

"I will get out of here, and I will survive!" he repeated to himself, glaring at the thick walls. No one could hear him, and it helped calm him down.

"I will get out of here, and I will survive," he whispered, adding, "and you all will pay."

Anthony was led through the long, seemingly endless halls. Every few minutes, identical iron doors appeared, creating an unsettling atmosphere. All the doors were locked except for one, and as Anthony passed it, he understood why.

A corpse lay on the floor—a little boy around nine years old. His blond hair was overgrown and messy, but his hands were the most disturbing part. Anthony looked away, noticing something missing from the boy's hands and fresh blood pouring out. He had an idea of what had happened. The boy was emaciated, his mouth bloody, but Anthony chose not to dwell on it. Maybe it wasn’t even the boy—perhaps it was something else.

Suddenly, two men threw Anthony to the ground and clamped something cold and scratchy against his neck. It felt like leather, but a small blue light emanated from its center. Despite the discomfort, he was dragged into a room before he could protest.

The room looked familiar yet different. Inside were several operating tables and beakers filled with various chemicals. A few cages held different creatures, though it was hard to tell what they originally were. The large table that used to be in the center was now at the back, and a new clock, which looked like a drawing, hung on the wall, ticking away and reading 2:30.

"Dr. Rain, are you in here?" he called out with little concern. He knew she hated noise, but they had gotten along quite well before, even if he disliked her.

Before he realized it, he had walked to the large built-in bookshelf. Despite the many books, most were dull in color and either about biology or chemistry. He reached for a rather new book with a light brown cover. Just as his fingertips touched the spine, he heard footsteps.

Someone cleared their throat—a scratchy sound he recognized as Dr. Rain’s. She always sounded like that in her lab, as if sandpaper were stuck in her throat.

"Evening, Dr. Rain. Mind if I borrow your book for a while?" His voice was half-joking, but he hoped she would say yes. She liked him enough to keep him alive, so what harm could it do to lend him a book?

She remained silent but playful, running her hand through her ink-black hair, which was shoulder-length and didn’t need tidying. Her blue eyes were like the sky, and a mole under her right eye stood out, as did the bandages around her neck.

Anthony pulled the book out before she could say anything, and she just left him. Instead, she moved to a corner of the room with a different atmosphere—a circular blue rug with two comfortable white armchairs facing a coffee table. It was much more comfortable than the rest of the room, which made him uneasy.

She took off her lab coat, revealing a black dress that reached just above her knees. It hugged her form but kept everything but her arms hidden. She signaled for him to move closer, then took a seat in one of the chairs, expecting him to do the same.

He did so but felt her eyes studying him, observing him like a wild animal. She had control of the situation but chose not to force it on him. She had when he was younger, but that had changed one day.

"So, do you like my little gift, Owly?" Her voice was honeyed, her head resting comfortably on the chair's back.

Anthony tolerated the nickname as if it were his true name. From her, it felt respectable, but from anyone else, it was insulting. He looked at her confused, then it hit him. His hand moved to fiddle with the collar or choker around his neck. Curiosity took over.

"Yes, I noticed. What is it for? Did I do something wrong again?" he asked, half-annoyed, as the idea of him stealing medicine was on everyone's minds. He didn’t, but who would trust a prisoner?

She smiled and shook her head. Despite taking off her coat, she reached into its pocket and pulled out a packet of tiny cookies. Each one was a different color and possibly a different flavor. "No, Owlie, I know you wouldn't steal medicine. If you did, I would know." She opened the packet and ate a red cookie before offering him a blue one. "And as for my gift, it’s a tracker. I’ve been working on something that you might like."

Anthony declined the cookie. Despite knowing he hadn't eaten since the previous night, he knew she couldn’t be trusted. She was evil in his eyes, and nothing she could offer would change that.

"Really, Dr. Rain? What could a tracker be needed for if I’m always here?" he asked while pulling the book against his chest. He didn’t want to get his hopes up but didn’t trust her.

She laughed and dropped the blue cookie on the table before moving to eat a green one. Was something wrong with the blue cookie?

"Don't worry about it too much. The commander wanted us to force you and the others to participate in the war, but I had a better solution. One that is far more... interesting."

Her smile unsettled him, but he chose to hide his discomfort by reading the book's title instead. "Mysteries of the Mind," he read aloud, finding the irony funny. He kept his eyes on the book. "Mind sharing this plan of yours, Dr. Rain?"

She laughed heartily, as if he had told her the best joke of her life. After a full minute, she exaggeratedly wiped a fake tear from her eye. "Patience, Owlie. I still have a coffee date to get to. Changing the law takes time right? Besides I like to suprise people ,don't I?"

Anthony tried to get more information out of Dr. Rain, but she ignored him. All he learned was that she needed to talk to the president and choose a test subject. That was it. By 4:15, she had the men take him back to his cell.

Now he was there, in his cell. They had removed the boy's corpse and cleaned the cell. It looked like a completely new room, one that had never been used.

Somehow, this made him sad. The poor boy would be forgotten, at least in here. Nobody remembers a dead face when they can get a new one to use. They were all replaceable, nothing more than experiments. But everyone knew that.

He sighed loudly in frustration and lay back on the floor.

Despite the dead boy's cell being spotless, his was still dirty. Old, spilled soup was on the floor. Surprisingly, a few ants had managed to sneak in and were tearing apart a block of soggy meat.

At least the ants could make use of the mess, but he didn’t like them near him. For all he knew, they could eat him. He knew it was a silly thought, but nothing could stop them from mutating.

The thought made his skin crawl. He touched his arms to make sure nothing was on him before moving to the door. Why, he didn’t know. Maybe he just hoped it would open. Maybe the war could stop. But that was a foolish thought. After everything, the war might never end.

He couldn’t really remember much since it started. He remembered being around 6 or 7 years old. He lived with his mother and older sister. That was all.

His eyes closed as he focused on the last thing he could remember.

His mother hid him and his sister in a small hut. It was probably a hut because it resembled something he saw in a picture book. Dr. Rain had informed him it was called a hut.

They didn’t have much furniture, so they often hid under blankets or used blankets to cover the windows. Their mom rarely visited...and then...

He turned from side to side, but he couldn’t remember what happened next. The memories were faint. Anything more made his head feel as if it were being screwed off.

His eyes found the ants. He watched two larger ones try to rip off pieces of fat from the meat. They seemed to struggle, and a few smaller ants tried to help. They pushed against each other but tried regardless. They didn’t give up, so why should he?

He closed his eyes again and tried thinking back to the hut. He could remember a scream, a flame, and sudden pain at the back of his neck. After that, everything was blank until he woke up here. But he knew there had to be more he couldn’t remember. It was as if something was stopping him.

A scorching pain burned through his head as he remembered a bit more. He curled up and held his head with his hands. It hurt so much. Tears blurred his vision, but he couldn’t cry. The pain spread through his neck and almost to the tracker around his neck. The blue light turned red, but Anthony didn’t notice.

His eyes were sealed shut, and he let out a scream of pure agony. His head felt as if it were pounding long after the burning stopped. The rest of his limbs turned numb and unresponsive.

He heard the door creak open, but he didn’t bother to look up. It was either a scientist or a guard, and he wasn’t in the mood for either. He just wanted to close his eyes. His vision was blurry, so it couldn’t hurt to try.

Slowly, his eyes closed, and he let out a shaky breath. The pain was unbearable, and he hated that someone saw him in this state. It might have happened before, but it didn’t make it better.

The stranger crouched in front of him and shook his shoulder. Now he had no idea who it was. The person wasn’t rough but wasn’t gentle either. It was as if whoever it was, was actually concerned.

After getting no response, the stranger pulled Anthony into a sitting position and checked his breathing. “Are you okay? Should I help get you to the lab?” The voice was deep. It was a man or young adult, then. But who?

“N-no...” Anthony managed to croak out. His throat hurt more than it should. Is it possible the stranger heard him scream? It would mean the walls weren’t soundproof. That thought alone sent fear down Anthony’s spine.

The stranger moved to touch the tracker, and the light turned blue again. The pain lessened, but the effects didn’t leave.

When Anthony opened his eyes, he was surprised to see green eyes staring back at him.