Chapter Text
"Hello, Subject 11-S-31-18."
The lamp flickers for a moment before continuing to illuminate the small conversation room. There isn't much here - a table, two chairs, two doors and, well, the lamp.
On one side of the table is a man in a lab coat, a few papers in his hands. The papers are both the ones required for the test itself and the subject's records.
On the other - a child in a white robe, their feet dangling over the ground and making the plastic bracelet around their ankle rustle as they fiddle with the other bracelet that's around their wrist. They're looking back to the door that they came in through.
"…Subject 11-S-31-18, it is impolite to not greet someone when you are greeted."
"Ah, sorry. Hello."
"It's fine, you'll learn. Now… How are you feeling?"
"Well, uh, it's nice to not still be sitting in line! Waiting was getting boring and the other kids didn't really wanna talk with me. My arms and legs are kinda sore from all the obstacle course stuff and my scars are REALLY itchy, but dad tells to not itch them or they will rupture and that'll hurt bad and-"
"That's enough. Sometimes, less words convey more meaning. Try saying how you feel, but in one word."
"Uhh… What's the point in that? You wouldn't know how I actually feel if I just said it in one word."
"But it is a lot simpler."
"… I'm fine, then, I guess."
The scientist jots down a few notes onto a paper before going back to the questionnaire.
The questions he asks are strange to the child.
Some are normal, like asking what they like, even if they can't say they like anything for sure yet. Not that they hate anything either, they're just not decided on what they like for sure yet.
But the others are just… Strange, like asking if they would hurt their creator if commanded to. And that's an obvious no, is it not? Who would hurt the one who made them just because someone else told them to do it? That's ridiculous! Completely ridiculous! And yet, the scientist didn't seem to like that answer. Weird.
The other tests were weird too. The scientist was trying to insist that the figures the child just looked at were white, but they were definetely colored in black. They know what they saw! But he just kept insisting until they give in and agree.
None of this feels right. It hadn't felt right for awhile now.
"Could you stop getting distracted, please? It's irritating."
"But you're not even explaining me anything. I don't get what this is even for."
"The greater good. Don't you want to be the Trailblazer?"
"I dunno. I don't even know what that means."
"Hm. How about we conclude this then? Come with me."
The scientist stands up and hold out a hand to the child urging them to get up aswell.
The floor is cold beneath their bare feet. They take his hand, expecting to be lead to the exit, but they are not. They're lead to the other door instead.
They soon end up in a small room. It appears even more dimly lit then the previous one.
There is a set of buttons on a table, the wire from it leading behind a glass wall where it hooks up to the arm of a man sitting in a chair.
"Subject 11-S-31-18, since you insist on doubting the other testing that you went through, you have been chosen for this special experiment." - the scientist states - "Please, press the button leftmost on the controller on the table."
The child looks at the man in the chair in concern.
"That looks dangerous."
"It'll only hurt him for a second." - the scientist reassures. - "Go on."
The child climbs into the chair before the table and reaches for the leftmost button.
They press and the man on the other side of the glass jolts in pain.
"Mhm, good. Next."
They press the next. The jolt repeats, this time noticeably worse.
This isn't right.
"Next."
With each button press he feels more pain. This isn't right.
"Next."
They don't want to continue. They can't continue.
"Next-"
The button that was going to be pressed next is thrown at the glass, cracking it.
"No! I don't wanna do this! I wanna go back to my dad! I wanna go home! Let me go home! Let me go home!"
Silence hangs over the room.
"…A shame. You were such a promising specimen. Go."
The child jumps down from the chair, letting it topple to the floor as they rush out.
Their document gets stamped with the word "Eliminated". They are no longer the facility's responsibility.