In a dim room illuminated by the eerie blue light characteristic of cryogenic stasis pods, the air seemed frozen.
With a soft hiss, Dr. 077 slowly pushed open the door of the pod in front of him. His movements betrayed a weariness and stiffness that were hard to conceal.
He stepped out, the cold metal floor transmitting a chill through his thin protective suit.
His gaze swept across the rows of stasis pods neatly arranged in front of him—fifty-two in total. The glaring red lights above each pod silently announced the fate within: vital signs terminated.
"That... was excessive," Dr. 077 muttered to himself, rubbing his temples which were still throbbing slightly.
"A single 'suggestion' from the consciousness level could distort my thinking to such an extent... It took fifty-two consecutive self-terminations just to barely offset that compulsive force."
He shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering sensation of near-death.
No, the procedural pain was irrelevant. What mattered was the result—the final image transmitted by the mechanical raven just before his last "death."
His fingers traced a pattern in the air, and a soft light screen unfolded instantly, clearly replaying that shocking scene at the boundary of Nevermore Academy:
Victor Black's body, which had stopped breathing, was surrounded by a despairing crowd. Yet, his chest began to rise and fall again. That scrap-metal heart, which should have been completely defunct, beat once more as if flicked by an invisible hand!
"Science... ceased to exist..."
Dr. 077 murmured, his gaze sharp enough to pierce the screen.
The raven's scanning function allowed him to see clearer than anyone on the scene, replaying every detail repeatedly.
No energy fluctuations, no mystical intervention, no explanation consistent with existing physical laws or supernatural rules.
The scene was as absurd as a car with its engine removed not only failing to stop but continuing to speed down the highway.
His worldview, an edifice built on rigorous data and logic, suffered an unprecedented impact in this moment.
"Incorrect... it's all incorrect..."
His eyes turned completely cold, like quenched steel.
"Whether it's C-136 (Vic) or C-137 (Venom), the characteristics they displayed are seriously inconsistent with the records left by Dr. 062 in the database."
That old man had indeed hidden something! The most crucial thing!
"Number 32!"
Dr. 077 raised his voice, echoing in the empty stasis room.
The door slid open silently. A young man wearing a uniform, designated Number 32, walked in briskly.
His gaze subconsciously swept over the striking red lights, pupils constricting slightly, a trace of unconcealed fear flashing across his face.
"Doctor," Number 32 quickly composed himself and responded respectfully. "I will clear these stasis pods and initiate the new cloning procedures immediately."
"No need." Dr. 077 waved his hand, his voice carrying an unquestionable decisiveness. "Suspend that for now. Take me to see an 'old friend'."
Number 32 immediately stepped forward, carefully supporting Dr. 077, whose body was still weak from exiting the stasis pod.
The two traversed several quiet corridors, arriving at an even more secretive room. It was unusually empty, save for a lone white platform in the center.
On the platform sat a specially made transparent nutrient tank. Inside, suspended in fluid, was a slightly pulsating brain connected to countless slender wires and tubes.
Dr. 077 input a series of commands on the console. Above the nutrient tank, a holographic projection of a frail old man slowly coalesced.
Upon seeing Dr. 077, the projection instantly twisted with rage, lunging forward madly, only to pass futilely through Dr. 077's body, emitting a silent roar.
"077! You bastard! Thief! How dare you imprison me in this cold cyber-cage! How dare you!"
Dr. 062's projection roared, his voice carrying the sharp distortion of electronic synthesis.
"Calm down, Dr. 062." Dr. 077's tone was calm to the point of cruelty as he cut straight to the chase. "I saw C-136 and C-137."
Dr. 062's fury halted abruptly. The projection froze for a second, then feigned a look of sudden recollection:
"Oh... you mean those two failed products? Tsk tsk, they're tough. I didn't expect them to have not self-terminated after all these years?"
"More than just 'not dead'."
Dr. 077 stated methodically, his gaze burning into the projection.
"They are living very well. Furthermore, they have escaped my carefully laid traps twice, costing me quite a few precious mechanical units."
"Ha! Then you truly are useless!" Dr. 062's projection let out a shrill mockery.
"Doctor!" Number 32 showed anger and took a step forward.
Dr. 077 raised a hand to stop him, his gaze still locked on 062:
"Dr. 062, you were indeed hiding something. Leaving aside C-137's biological symbiotic characteristics that far exceed records, what happened to C-136—that scene which completely defies logic and cannot be explained by current science—the 'spontaneous' resuscitation of that heart. What force is that?"
"I don't know what nonsense you're talking about!"
Dr. 062's projection flickered. His tone was tough, but the subtle fluctuations revealed his unease.
"Worthy of being one of the top researchers in flesh evolution and gene chimera fields back then."
Dr. 077's tone held a hint of cold appreciation.
"Even with only a brain left, you managed to deceive my previous deep memory scans. However, this time, you can't hide it."
He looked at Number 32 and nodded.
Number 32, unable to hold back any longer, immediately pulled out a peculiar, precise instrument flashing with a dangerous red light. With a force that seemed like venting anger, he inserted it precisely into a core interface connecting the nutrient tank to the brain.
"What are you doing?! 077! My serial number precedes yours! This is overstepping authority! This is betrayal!"
Dr. 062's projection shook violently, his voice filled with genuine panic.
"Stop! You don't understand! You have no idea what force you are trying to pry into! It will bring destruction!"
"Actually, I can do this." Dr. 077's voice was cold and absolute. "Serial numbers are meaningless in the face of results. Number 32, do it!"
"Yes! Doctor!"
Number 32 pressed the activation button on the instrument firmly.
Blinding light instantly enveloped the brain in the nutrient tank. Dr. 062's projection twisted and disintegrated amidst a shriek of extreme fear and pain...
As the cold hum of the instrument gradually subsided, Dr. 077 and Number 32's gazes locked onto the memory fragments forcibly extracted, parsed, and played on the light screen.
It was Dr. 062's deeply hidden core secret. Accompanied by his intense emotional fluctuations of attempted resistance and ultimate failure, it unfolded slowly like a faded film reel, full of noise and cracks.
The camera shook; it was Dr. 062's subjective perspective.
Under the shadowless lamp, on the cold metal autopsy table, lay a young Victor Black—Subject C-136.
His body was covered in horrifying wounds. The vital signs monitor showed a glaring flatline, the alarm blaring continuously.
"Log: C-136, 37th extreme endurance test failed. Vital signs absent for over one hundred eighty seconds. Death confirmed."
Dr. 062's calm voice recorded, tinged with a hint of regret, or perhaps impatience at the loss of experimental material.
However, in the few seconds as he turned to signal his assistant to dispose of the "waste," the flatline on the monitor jumped abruptly and without warning!
Then a second time, a third... Weak, yet tenaciously creepy.
The camera zoomed in sharply on Victor's pale little face.
Those eyes, which should have lost all spirit, fluttered their lashes and slowly opened a slit. Deep within the pupils was confusion, yet also a certain... incomprehensible vitality.
"This is impossible!" The Dr. 062 in the memory roared, filled with a scientist's shock and the anger of having his worldview challenged. The scalpel clattered to the floor.