Fate pulled off his torso armor, dropping it to the ground as he lifted his shirt up.
"What's this?" Garrett asked.
"A scar, from when I was held captive by the Advanced. Like my friend, they cut me open and fucked around with my insides. The awful, skin-tearing and bone-snapping experiments they performed on me weren't even the worst parts. They killed my mother when they took me, and they killed a friend when I escaped."
"That doesn't prove anything, boy. You'll have to think of something better than that if you don't want me breaking your neck."
Fate sighed. "Alright. You're a Time Embodiment, right?"
Garrett's eyes narrowed. "What of it?"
"Have you learned some kind of technique to see my past or something like that?"
"There is one way." The old man frowned. "But it's dangerous. An unprepared mind could if done incorrectly."
"I doubt I'd be able to beat you anyway, old man. Might as well risk my life for a chance at doing what I came here for."
"Fine, but if you die, I won't feel guilty in the slightest," Garrett said, striding over to Fate. "Bend down, you tall fucker."
Fate obliged, and Garrett put his hands on either side of Fate's head. The elderly man closed his eyes and told Fate to do the same.
"Alright, let's get this out of the way." A pulse of Divine Energy spread out from Garrett, which then converged and flowed into Fate's forehead.
"It seems I need to make it more lucrative for you," the scientist said, his cold eyes staring at Null and Hera through his glasses. "Whoever loses goes without dinner."
Null clenched the knife tighter, tiny hands trembling as he stared into Hera's eyes. Neither moved.
"No? Alright. Then whoever draws first blood is exempt from today's eye durability testing."
Null watched as Hera's green eyes flashed with conflict, sadness, then finally, resolve. She took a step forward, then another. With a yell, she rushed forward, her twelve-year-old arms swinging at Null wildly with her knife.
Null blocked thrust after thrust, but the ferocity of Hera was slowly driving him back. When his back hit a wall, he ducked under her next attack and stepped around to her back, slicing at her knife arm. She twirled around, slapping his blade away with the flat of her own, before ramming her weapon into his ribs.
Null coughed, splattering blood all over Hera's face. He looked into her eyes, his gaze holding no hatred or anger, only acceptance. It wasn't her fault they were doing this. When Hera saw the look in his eye, hers widened in shock and horror at what she had done.
"Excellent job, Hera," the scientist said monotonously. "Null, go get yourself fixed up. You're more useful alive than dead, sadly."
Hera pulled the knife out of Null, watching him limp away to the medical facility with unshed tears.
A loud snap sounded and a pain-filled scream followed soon after.
"Failure," the scientist droned. Null stood at attention by his side, trying to avert his eyes from the horrible sight of Hades' mangled limbs. Every furtive glimpse he took made him want to throw up his lunch.
Bone protruded out of several spots on each of Hades' limbs, the arms and legs bent in unnatural directions. Blood gushed from the wounds as the robotic arms of the machine ceased their horrible tests. Null knew that Hades had no painkillers or even something to bite down on, meaning he felt everything as the machine slowly twisted his limbs in ways they shouldn't bend.
After a click from the scientist's remote, the machine latched onto Hades once more and bent his limbs back into place, eliciting more screams as his bones were shoved and pushed back into their proper positions, then the wounds cauterized shut and sprayed with green healing goop.
The scientists checked his clipboard. "Null, your turn."
Null was in one of the seemingly infinite white rooms the Advanced had. The room was devoid of any furniture or decorations of any kind, lacking even the cameras typical of everywhere else in the facility. He stood at attention, not allowing a single drop of sweat to exit his skin as the Operational Manager of the Advanced eyeballed him. He had already been standing in this position for over an hour.
"Do you want to know something, Null?" the manager asked. "Why we do to you and your friends what we do?"
Null held his tongue.
"That's fine. I'll tell you anyway. I've been wanting to let you brats know for a while now." The man leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "We're going to make a god."
Null blinked, showing no other response. The Operational Manager leaned back, disappointed that he received no response before he adopted an expression of gravity.
"I don't know if you can tell, but that's what you six were brought here for. Each of you has the potential to become a god amongst men, amongst even other gods. Or at least, that's what we thought, but the tests have shown that other than a slight spark of divinity, you and your 'friends' are utterly ordinary. But you still have secrets locked within yourselves that may help us succeed later, so you aren't going anywhere."
"This 'god' you make will be nothing but a flawed fool lacking compassion for the people he rules. Just like you, and everyone that works for you," Null said emotionlessly, simply stating what he viewed as an undeniable fact.
The OM snarled, slapping Fate across the face. Fate didn't flinch, having grown used to much worse pain.
"You just earned more tests for you and your friends," the man leered. "I've been wanting to see your skin reacts to prolonged exposure to intense heat. Let's go find out, shall we?"
"You are not 'friends,'" the scientist spat contemptibly. "You are not 'colleagues,' or 'siblings,' or even 'acquaintances.' You are nothing to each other, just like you are nothing to us. From now on, any attempted contact between all of you will result in four months in the Room." The man threw his gun to the side and stormed off, lab coat fluttering from the force of his steps.
Left behind were Null and Hera, holding desperately onto Apollo as blood dripped from the fist-sized hole in his stomach. Hera's tears fell and mixed with the blood, causing it to appear watery as it streaked down her hands, which were pressed together in a futile attempt to hold Hera's wound shut. A guard appeared in the room and threw Hera off, scooping Apollo up and leaving.