"Emotions are vital, even among apex predators and herbivores alike. Each possesses feelings of sorrow, joy, and fear. Humans are no different. Emotions are our primary mode of communication; they dictate how we begin our day—whether with vigor, rage, or lethargy. If you lack emotions, you are either dead, or you have become something far more dangerous than a beast."
Harten, who had only half of his emotions remaining—though we know not which half—gazed at Joe with a solemn look before a smirk tugged at his lips. "Damn you, old man. Is that all you have to say after all this time?"
Joe looked at him intently. "Are you still smiling?"
"What do you mean?" Harten asked.
"Never mind that for now," Joe replied. "Come. I will explain why we moved our location, why that plane crashed because of me, and why your survival during that fall was my doing."
Shocked and incredulous, Harten leaped lightly onto the cliffside, following Joe back to the old cave they had once inhabited. There, Harten saw the meat, the knives, and the comfortable bed. He stared at Joe in a fit of rage. "Damn it, you fool! Why didn't you bring this out sooner? And where did you get these knives? Do you have any idea how long it took me to butcher that cursed buffalo? A whole day!"
"Harten!" Joe cut him off, his voice booming. Harten fell silent.
"Come here," Joe said. "There is beef on the fire."
Harten sat down, and Joe handed him a cup of tea. Though puzzled, Harten drank it.
"Harten," Joe began, "do you know why I saved your life when I found you by the river? Any rational person would have left you; a small child is nothing but a useless drain on resources. I was on the verge of leaving you until I remembered my young son and my wife. We were truly happy once. But life is hard. It gives with one hand and takes with the other. That is the nature of existence. Can you handle the weight of what I'm about to tell you?"
"It doesn't matter, old man," Harten replied, intrigued.
"It will put your life in constant peril," Joe warned.
Harten erupted into hysterical laughter. "Hahaha! What? You think I've been living in paradise? I kill every single day just to numb my feelings—so that when danger strikes, I won't hesitate for a second!"
Joe chuckled. "I'm sorry. Recalling the past has made me overly sensitive. Very well, I will tell you. I am from Russia."
"Heh, obviously," Harten remarked. "Blonde hair, white beard. A classic Russian old-timer."
"Harten! Do not interrupt me."
"Fine."
"I was a scientist in the field of human sciences. My specialty was hormones, and I focused on the 'Joker' of all hormones: Adrenaline. I was fascinated by it because it can turn a weak human into a superhuman, yet its sheer intensity can also make the strong turn weak, paralyzed and unable to move. I wanted to develop a serum that would make adrenaline... its name is long, let's just call it 'Hormone D.' I wanted to make it something you could trigger whenever and wherever you wished. If you needed to empower your arm, you could. If you were injured, you could control your blood flow, stop the hemorrhage, and direct your healing cells to the site of the damage. Hormone D would turn you into a literal superhero."
"I conducted countless studies and experiments on mice until the first one finally succeeded. The mouse was powerful and in peak health. I placed it in a cage with 50 other mice in their prime, and it was the smallest among them. Imagine the result... one mouse against fifty. It wiped them out. They didn't leave a single scratch on it. Its physical strength and speed were literally unbelievable. I couldn't trust my own eyes. So, I raised the stakes to 150 mice. I was impatient. Some colleagues objected, saying the result was clear and there was no need to risk the subject, but I wouldn't listen. Do you know what happened? A one-sided massacre! That single mouse slaughtered all 150. And for the record, the others were terrified and didn't attack at once, but the subject seemed to enjoy it. Everyone was stunned. Even I was speechless. But my hunger for results wasn't satisfied. I raised the count to 350. Some opposed, some supported, and others stayed neutral. I ran the trial, and the result was the same, though it grew slightly fatigued. You can only imagine the sea of blood that single mouse created! I was laughing hysterically with joy."
"I didn't want to stop there. I looked at everyone in the lab and asked: 'Should we increase the count?' They laughed and said yes. They didn't know I was going to pit that one mouse against a thousand! They were in shock, every eye fixed on the cage. The subject killed all one thousand mice. It could have played for time, survived, or eaten, but its only objective was the kill. It would not rest until its enemies were dead. It collapsed after killing mouse number 999, and the 1000th mouse... it died of pure terror! Hahaha. Our experiment was crowned with success after 899 failures. Experiment number 900 was the breakthrough. Offers poured in, most notably from the Russian military—specifically the mercenary group 'Vanguard.' They offered me 500 million euros for every batch of modified Hormone D. I was at the height of my euphoria, not because of the money, but because I was finally going to perform human trials! I was in a state of pure ecstasy. I agreed immediately. I didn't know it was the beginning of my misery."
"I went to their headquarters and met their leader. I dove straight into the human trials. He laughed and asked: 'Are you eager, a lover of money, or just plain mad?' I entered the tunnel at the base in the deepest cold of Russia. The chill gnawed at my bones, but I didn't stop. We descended to a place that looked like a dungeon. He told me: 'Welcome to the interrogation and torture chamber.' Screams echoed from everywhere, punctuated by the sound of gunshots. I told him I needed a sterile environment to start my work to prevent any errors. He said: 'I've already prepared it.' I marched into the facility. Advanced equipment I had never even dreamed of was waiting for me. I was thrilled. I started working. Failure after failure. Death after death. So many trials. The number of failures reached 999. The Vanguard leader looked at me and said: 'Enough! You aren't cut out for this. Go home.' I grabbed his shoulder and said: 'Give me one last chance.' He asked: 'The last one?' I said: 'Yes.' He replied: 'Fine. If you fail, I will kill you.' I didn't care about my life; I was only thinking about what mistake I had made."
"I went home. I had a lab mouse there for behavior testing. I tried the hormone on it because of the brilliant success of the first trial, but the mouse died instantly. I was baffled. 'Why did that first mouse survive?' I went back to my original lab, back to the records of the successful subjects. I found that it had never lived in a breeding facility; it was from the outside—a street mouse. I don't know how it got there, but it taught me how to make the experiment succeed. But first, I had to analyze the failed human trials. I found that they were nothing more than low-level spies with very little training. They had never suffered; they had never been tortured. That's why it failed. That's why I failed."
"I rushed to call the mercenary leader. I asked: 'Were the subjects tortured before the trial?' He said: 'No.' I asked: 'Why?' He raised his voice: 'Peak performance happens when a person is at their best.' I told him: 'Start the lab immediately. Bring me five subjects who have tasted the most extreme agony and torture imaginable.' He was puzzled and asked: 'Don't you think you're rushing?' I said: 'Don't you want super-soldiers?' He laughed and said: 'Fine, have it your way. But I'll have a pistol ready for any failure.' Hah. He hung up. I jumped in my car and sped to the testing site. The leader met me and said: 'Go in.' I looked at the five subjects: four men and... a woman?! I asked: 'Why?' He said: 'Didn't you say you wanted those who suffered most? So we brought them to you. Look at her—does she even look like a woman? Her teeth are gone, her nails are gone, her hair is gone. Just a breathing mass of flesh.' I asked: 'Can they understand you?' He said: 'More or less.' I said: 'Fine. Take the four men and throw them into a pit with 100 people. The one who survives comes out. Total people in the pits will be 400.' 'Fine,' he replied. 'If you fail, I won't kill you; I'll torture you slowly.' I told him: 'It doesn't matter.' He laughed, looked at me, and asked: 'And the woman?' I said: 'For God's sake, she won't last!' Then I heard a voice from her saying: 'Don't underestimate me, you fool, or I'll kill you!' I was stunned that she could even speak. It was truly surprising. I told the leader: 'Put her with 50 people.' Her voice rang out: '200! Put 200 people in the pit with me and you'll see a bloodbath!' I said: 'No matter, I have no time to lose. Prepare the pits.' And so it began. We told the prisoners that the sole survivor would win their freedom from this hell. We watched the subjects, hoping they would survive."
"We put them in the pit and couldn't see anything, but we could hear. Twelve hours passed. Subject Number One qualified. Number Two qualified. Number Three failed. Strangely, a 16-year-old boy survived. They wanted to kill him, but I refused, saying he was excellent. Number Four and Five qualified. We waited and waited, and we were shocked. That girl, who looked like she was on the verge of death, qualified. I shouted: 'Go and treat them!' We sanitized them and waited for them to recover. They became like siblings. I tried to start the sequence, but Number Five objected and stepped forward as the eldest among them. I didn't care, and I began the trial. We were on edge until... it succeeded! It worked! Yes! The leader looked at me, grabbed my shoulder, and said: 'You survived a slow death, Joe.' The rest of the subjects followed and succeeded. They became stronger, faster. Most shockingly, Subject Number Five's teeth, hair, and nails actually grew back. I was stunned. How was this possible? I conducted studies on them, but Number Five was a 'mutation.' My treatment of them changed. I became like a father to the other four. But Number Five was different. She was magnificent. I fell in love with her, and I spent most of my time with her. None of the others cared, except Number Three. He was young and loved attention; he competed with Number Five in everything—marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, physical strength—but he always came in second. Whenever he saw me, he'd come running like a puppy. But truthfully, I only came to see Number Five. Eventually, she began to return my feelings. One day, as I was preparing her for the daily exam, she asked: 'What do you think of me, Joe?' I was shocked. My face turned red. I told her: 'You are beautiful... very beautiful.' She was surprised and punched me so hard I fell to the ground, nearly blacking out. She screamed: 'Joe! Are you dead?' I said: 'Almost.' Then she laughed, and I laughed too. I was truly happy. But there was someone watching from a distance with pure malice. Number Three hated Number Five for her closeness to me. I went to the mercenary leader and said: 'I want Number Five.' He was surprised and asked: 'Why?' I said: 'I just want her.' He said: 'Fine, take her, but don't show her to anyone, understand?' I was puzzled but agreed. I took her with me to my home. We married in secret and had a child I named 'Hope.' I gave him a name that signified hope. He was my chance at happiness. But happiness never lasts... To be continued."