The lab beneath the mansion wasn't on any map. It had no windows, no echoes. Just silence, steel, and shadows. It was built years ago for emergencies—but recently, it had been transformed into something else. Something colder. The perfect place to hide sins dressed as science.
The boy—Kai—was sitting silently on the edge of the hospital bed, legs swinging. He looked better than when Ryan had first brought him in from the streets. His skin had more color. His eyes, while still cautious, held a glimmer of curiosity. He didn't speak much, but he listened—carefully.
Today, he was being watched.
Behind a mirrored glass panel, the doctor stood in silence, arms crossed. He wasn't the type to show emotion. His name wasn't even known by most of Ryan's men. To them, he was simply Dr. Voss—a man who once had a license, a reputation, and a future. Now, he was hiding behind Ryan's name, protected by power and money.
Ryan entered the observation room, his expression unreadable.
"Everything ready?" he asked.
Dr. Voss nodded without taking his eyes off the child. "Vitals are stable. No abnormalities. The boy's a perfect subject."
"I don't want him to suffer," Ryan said, his voice lower than usual.
"You won't see it on the surface," replied the doctor. "But his body will fight the serum. It always does. That's how we know it works."
Ryan looked down at the tablet in his hands. The serum's codename glared back at him: EX-71. It was supposed to be revolutionary—an experimental compound that could heighten neurological activity, increase muscle coordination, and erase fear. If it worked, it would create something more than human.
But if it failed… the human body would shut down, slowly and painfully.
They'd tested it on strays, on dogs, rats. Some lived for days. Some for hours. All died in the end.
This would be the first human trial.
"I'm not doing this for sport," Ryan said, still watching the boy. "You know that."
Dr. Voss smirked. "No. You're doing it because Felix is paying you twenty million. And because you want to be untouchable."
Ryan didn't reply.
The doctor pressed a button on the console and spoke into the intercom. "Kai. You remember what we talked about, right? Just a small shot. Like last time."
The boy looked up. "Will it hurt?"
"No," lied the doctor.
Kai nodded.
Moments later, a nurse entered the lab, wearing gloves and a visor. She prepped the injection in silence, the syringe filled with a silver-blue liquid that shimmered under the fluorescent light.
Ryan turned away. He didn't want to see the needle go in. But he stayed. He had to.
As the serum entered the boy's bloodstream, nothing happened at first. Kai blinked. Swallowed. Looked at the nurse. Then, his fingers began to tremble.
The nurse stepped back.
"Vitals spiking," said Dr. Voss, checking the monitor. "Heart rate—162. Pupils dilating. Limbic system activating."
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means it's working."
But then—Kai screamed.
The sound sliced through the lab, raw and animal. His back arched off the bed. His eyes rolled back. He clutched at his chest, gasping like he couldn't breathe.
"Stop it!" Ryan barked. "Get him something!"
The nurse hesitated, looking at Dr. Voss through the glass. But the doctor shook his head.
"Do not interfere. Let it run its course."
"But he's a kid—"
"If we stop it now, we lose everything," said the doctor coldly. "We won't get this chance again."
Ryan's fists clenched, but he didn't move.
Kai collapsed onto the mattress, silent now. Still. Unmoving.
"Is he—?"
"Wait," said Voss.
The boy's fingers twitched. Then his arm. Then his head slowly turned toward the mirror. He was looking at them. Right at them.
Ryan took a step back.
The heart monitor slowed. The brainwave readings leveled.
Then Kai sat up. Calm. Cold. His eyes no longer looked afraid—they looked… empty.
"What the fuck did you do to him?" Ryan whispered.
Dr. Voss allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. "We turned him on."