.einniV

Somewhere in Los Angeles, 2025

POV: Unknown Subject V-7

The liquid was thick, colder than ice but alive with a hum that rattled against my bones. My eyelids dragged open, and the world beyond the glass blurred into sterile light and shadows of moving figures.

I couldn’t remember exactly how long they had kept me floating in that vat. Or how many times they'd pumped me full of whatever substance it was they had been so eager to perfect. In fact, I couldn’t seem to remember anything from before I was there. Only snippets. 

Sometimes I saw visions of children running around a big house. Maybe an orphanage. Other time's I'd just see the scientists. Stern. Watching.

They whispered. They thought I couldn’t hear them.

“Subject V-7 still stable.”

“Heart rate spiking… he’s conscious.”

The silver-blonde strands of my hair drifted like silk in the vat, framing a face still too young to be burdened with scars. My body was slender, almost fragile, but it belied the strength coiled beneath my skin. The strength they had injected me with.

The wires tethered to me pulsed faintly, feeding data to monitors that chirped louder with every heartbeat.

I curled my fingers. The restraints fought back, steel biting my wrists. Then a surge rippled through me and the glass trembled.

One of them noticed. “Something isn’t right with him, get Dr. Viora.”

Too late.

My hand smashed forward. The glass fractured, splintering like frozen water. The fluid burst free in a torrent, carrying me with it, spilling into the sterile dark chamber. Sirens wailed. The air bit colder than the vat.

I rose slowly, pale skin glistening. My chest heaved, ribs sharp against the skin of a teenage frame, but my movements were precise. Too precise.

The nearest scientist backed away, dropping his clipboard. His mouth opened, but no sound escaped before my hand crushed his throat.

I didn’t stop moving. Another grabbed a syringe. I slammed him into the wall so hard the plaster caved in. His body folded, broken.

They screamed. I only heard the pounding in my skull, the rush of blood that didn’t feel entirely mine. The lights above flickered as I staggered forward, silver-blonde hair plastered wet against my face.

My reflection glinted in the shattered vat. Hollow eyes stared back at me from a boy’s body honed into something I no longer recognized.

One word slipped past my lips, hoarse and alien in my own ears:

“…Free.”