I woke up to a steady hum—the sound of medical machines measuring the beats of my heart, which had refused to stop. I opened my eyes slowly, the white light piercing my eye sockets like needles. I wasn't in the courtyard, nor was I in the white room. It was a sterile medical facility, the stench of chemical disinfectants filling the air.
I felt my stomach, my fingers tracing the roughness of the medical stitches over the stab wound "Han" had delivered. The memory of the cold blade piercing my entrails still sent shivers through my body. A profound silence and stillness pervaded the place—an eerie quiet I wasn't accustomed to amidst the factory's clamor.
Minutes later, a male nurse wearing a medical mask entered. He looked slightly startled, then smiled: "Oh, Skyro... you're finally awake." Their treatment was suspiciously kind and clean, as if I were no longer just a specimen, but a "guest." He said calmly: "Sit up on the bed, we will inform Lord Hairo that you've awakened."
Barely a few minutes passed before the door opened, and Hairo walked in with that ever-present smile—a smile that concealed ruins of secrets.
"Welcome back, survivor..." he said, scrutinizing me. "So... can you walk?"
I answered in a hoarse but steady voice: "Yes."
"Excellent. Listen to me carefully, Skyro. I will tell you what happens now. I am giving you a light black collar to wear around your wrist. Through it, you will live your life completely normally; all your living and training expenses will be covered by me. But, in return, every few months you will receive special missions: assassinating figures, or protecting high-value targets. You have now earned the number (20) in my private records. As for the rest, they received their numbers and left to live their lives as ready-made tools. Come on, Skyro... don't let your life end here."
A strange sensation tore at my chest—a mix of disgust and confusion. I asked him, my voice dripping with malice: "Why? Why did you save me?"
Hairo laughed coldly: "Simply put... I don't like throwing away talent. I watched your results all month. You were paired with weaklings, yet you performed, you exhausted yourself, and you firmly secured fifth place with clear superiority despite the lack of help. Your performance in the tests and your intellect in overcoming obstacles were entertaining to watch... Why would I let a strong specimen like you go to waste?"
I screamed in his face: "Then why did you kill my family?!"
He replied with a lethal coldness, gripping my head with his strong hand: "You mean that gang? Oh, Skyro... you didn't know they were just murderers threatening the factory and trying to steal our supplies. I have a red line when it comes to theft and murder, and when one of them killed my guards, I decided to eliminate them. I could have eliminated you too, but I never kill children... I only make them strong so they don't need to rely on anyone."
I didn't know what to do. Should I blame him for destroying my world? Or thank him for turning me into the monster I am today?
"Come on, don't delay. Go, Skyro, and look at the city... The weather is beautiful today."
I walked out into the outer courtyard. I saw the guards dismantling the test boxes and scrubbing away the bloodstains. I walked toward the massive gate and stepped outside for the first time after months of agony. Finally... the taste of freedom.
I ran. I ran with every ounce of strength I had. I wasn't fleeing the factory; I was fleeing myself. I was crying as I ran, unable to believe I was still breathing. I reached the center of the city and stood there, looking at the people, the families, the mothers and fathers... I longed for this human life that had been stripped from me.
I rented a modest apartment using Hairo's money and began living a "normal" life on the surface. Until that day came. The black collar on my wrist vibrated. A programmed message: (To Number 20, please prepare. You have an assassination mission in one month. Location and details attached. You must photograph the corpse to earn points. The more points you gain, the higher the funds in your collar.)
Something inside me was terrifyingly aroused. During the days I hadn't touched a knife, I felt as though I had lost a piece of my soul. I bought a blade as black as coal and began training in the forest daily. I honed my strength, my speed, and my killer instinct.
On the night of the mission, I didn't think about "good" or "evil." I only wanted to execute the task. I ambushed a gang in their hideout; I stabbed the first, slaughtered the second, and strangled their boss with my bare hands until he drew his last breath. I photographed their corpses, sent them... and the first mission was complete.
Three years passed...
I transformed into a routine killing machine. My body developed; I grew taller, my muscular build solidified, and my features became as sharp as the blade I carried. I forgot Dan's face, I forgot Hugh... I forgot everyone.
Seven years passed...
I executed hundreds of missions. I never lost a single one. I killed rivals, nobles, and hired assassins who tried to stop me. I reached a stage where I could kill anyone standing before me without batting an eye. I was no longer "the child Skyro"... I became "Rank Two" on Hairo's secret list.
Suddenly, on a dark night, a message arrived directing me to a location far from the city: (Do not enter through the front door. Come through the back door wearing an elegant suit. An order from Hairo.)
I arrived at the designated building. It was a locked fortress surrounded by guards. From afar, I saw a black car pull up. A young woman with beautiful pink hair and elegant clothes stepped out... it was Ellie. Then another car arrived, and a young man with green hair everyone recognized stepped out... Hugh. As for the third, he stepped out of his car exhaling sheer rage, his body impossibly massive, muscles bulging beneath his shirt... Dan.
They entered through the front door, while I headed to the back. "Show me the collar," the guard said. I showed it to him, and he bowed respectfully: "Welcome, Mr. Skyro."
I walked down a long corridor ending in a massive, ornate door. I entered and found a spacious room flooded with moonlight from giant windows. In the center was a round table with six chairs, and Hairo stood there, smiling.
"Welcome, Skyro... it's been a long time," Hairo said, examining me. "You have truly become a man. Your features, your height, your piercing eyes... you are a work of art."
I answered coldly: "Hello, sir."
"Today, there will be a brief discussion with the Elite, but I need you to take this earpiece and wait outside. Listen to everything being said, and when I call your name... you appear. Excellent?"
"Understood."
I stepped outside and put on the earpiece. Minutes later, I heard their voices entering the hall. Ellie greeting Hairo enthusiastically and hugging him; Dan greeting him with respect; and Hugh offering his usual reverence.
"Sit down, everyone..." Hairo said. "Today we have a brief discussion."
I heard Dan's gruff voice ask: "Sir, who are the fifth and sixth seats for? The three of us are here, and there are empty seats."
Ellie added curiously: "True, we eliminated all the numbers in the Second Section; no one is left but us... And surely (Han) is still alive, so who owns the fifth seat?"
Hairo smiled, and I could feel his grin through the earpiece: "The seating arrangement is slightly different, my friends. The seat in the middle is mine. The seat to my right is for Rank One. As for the seat to my left... that is for Rank Two. The remaining seats are from third to fifth."
Dan shouted in shock: "So we are neither first nor second?! Are you joking, sir? Who is this person who surpassed me and Hugh?"
Ellie asked with a trembling voice: "Is it someone from the old First Section?"
Hairo replied with a cryptic tone: "No, it is someone you thought was just a fleeting memory... someone you left behind bleeding, thinking his story ended in that white box."
Then Hairo shouted: "Enter... Rank Two!"
I opened the door. I walked with confident, silent steps toward the light. My eyes fell upon them; their faces had changed, their bodies had grown, but the shock painted across their features was priceless.
Dan shot up from his seat so violently his chair tipped backward, crashing to the floor with a clatter that shattered the room's silence. His eyes bulged as he stared at me like seeing a ghost fresh from the grave: "S... Skyro?! I... Impossible! You're alive?!"
Ellie put her trembling hand over her mouth, taking a step back in a daze that paralyzed her tongue: "Number 37... Skyro?"
But amidst this collective shock, there was one reaction that was... "different."
My eyes drifted slowly toward Hugh. Unlike Dan, who nearly fell over, and unlike the stunned Ellie, Hugh was the fastest to regain his composure. I caught a glint in his eyes... it looked like a glint of "nostalgia" or relief. Hugh sighed deeply, then painted on that calm, warm smile that had always distinguished him in the hell of the factory. He looked at me like an old friend who had found a missing piece of his memory, and nodded slowly, saying in a welcoming tone: "I had a feeling... Talent truly never dies, Skyro."
I ignored their shocked stares, walking calmly past them. I didn't look at them as childhood friends to be embraced; I looked at them as pawns from the past still standing on the board.
"It's been a long time... hasn't it?" I said in an icy voice as I sat in the vacant seat to Hairo's left, relishing the sound of my footsteps that had drowned out their erratic breathing.
Ellie tried to regain her calm, but her voice came out shaky, laced with a bizarre mix of terror and awe: "You... you've changed so much, Skyro. You've grown tall, and your features... my God, your eyes are no longer human. They tell the stories of hundreds of corpses you've left in your wake."
A heavy silence fell for a second. Everyone thought it was a moment to catch their breath... but they were wrong.
THUD... THUD...
The echo of heavy, slow, and methodical footsteps came from the outer corridor. No one turned out of curiosity; we all turned because the air in the room had suddenly become suffocatingly heavy. The survival instinct screamed in our heads, and Dan, Hugh, and Ellie's hands reached for their weapons involuntarily, as if an apex predator was about to enter.
The door opened, and "The Nightmare" walked in.
A colossal man, possessing a physique that made Dan look like a child beside him. His hair was pitch black like the gloom of a grave, and his eyes... those calm eyes stared into the void with absolute coldness, a coldness that did not belong to the human race. The aura surrounding him wasn't just murderous intent; it was a "pressure" that crushed the will of anyone nearby.
"Welcome, Han... it's been a while," Hairo said with a broad smile, as if he were the only one capable of breathing in the presence of this monster.
Han walked. He didn't answer with a single word. With every step, the red carpet beneath his boots seemed to groan under the weight of his existence. He passed by Dan, whose body had stiffened, sweat pouring from his forehead. He passed Ellie, who held her breath and clung to her chair. He didn't look at them... he didn't grant them the honor of a glance. He treated them like air, like dust, as if they didn't exist in his world.
Han reached the table and pulled out the chair designated for "Rank One" with agonizing slowness. The scraping of the chair's legs against the floor was the only sound audible in that deadly silence.
Han sat down with a terrifying, regal calm, leaned back, and placed his intertwined hands on the table. For a moment, everyone thought he would look at Hairo, or speak.
But he turned his head slowly... toward me.
We froze in our places. My eyes met his. He didn't say a single word. He didn't smile. He didn't nod. He just... looked at me.
It was a silent, heavy gaze, saturated with a bottomless darkness. Deep within that calm eye, I saw a faint red glimmer shifting like an ember beneath ash. That look wasn't a welcome, and it wasn't a threat... it was an "acknowledgment." A terrifying acknowledgment that the monster residing inside him had finally recognized the monster residing inside me.
Under the crushing weight of that silent stare, I felt the entire room fade away, leaving nothing in this world but me... him... and that silent hell binding us together.