The air hung thick with iron and salt—blood and sweat steaming in the Nursery's sterile chill. 44 stood at the room's center, a specter in white, his silver hair glinting under flickering fluorescents. At his feet, 42 sprawled broken, face a pulped mosaic of bruises, breath rattling like a dying engine.
"*Tch.* Still breathing?" 44 tilted his head, violet eyes reflecting 42's mangled form. "How… disappointing."
42 spat a glob of blood, lips splitting into a ghoulish grin. "Y'always… talk too much… *Beard*."
44's lashes lowered, a sigh escaping him. *Predictable.*
Around them, the other subjects stirred—thirty-four hollow-eyed shadows clutching makeshift weapons. Their gazes darted between 44's pristine uniform and 42's twitching body. Hope, fear, desperation—emotions the Nursery had failed to purge. *Weakness.*
The lights died.
For three heartbeats, darkness swallowed the room.
When they flickered back, 44 was gone.
A scream tore through the silence.
***Crack.***
Subject 21's skull met the wall, spiderwebbing the concrete.
***Squelch.***
Subject 18's throat parted beneath a scalpel stolen from the infirmary.
44 moved like a ghost, his blows surgical, efficient. Bones shattered. Breath stilled. He hummed as he worked—a lullaby the Nursery's speakers had looped during their childhood "rest periods."
"I *am* showing mercy," he murmured, driving his knee into Subject 27's sternum. The boy's ribs caved with a wet crunch. "You'll thank me. One day."
By the time the hologram flickered—**35 → 5**—the floor was a tapestry of carnage. Only four remained: 29, 34, 42, and a nameless girl curled in the corner, her whimpers harmonizing with the drip of ruptured pipes.
29 stumbled forward, a shiv trembling in his grip. "W-we surrender! You're… you're better. Superior!"
44 paused, tilting his head. A bead of blood slid down his cheek, scarlet against alabaster. "Mercy isn't surrender. It's *truth.*" He stepped over 42, boots leaving crimson prints. "You think the world awaits you? That you'll stroll into sunlight, hand in hand with *normals*?"
34 flinched at the word. *Normal.* A myth sold to them between beatings and equations.
"They'll call you *freak*," 44 whispered, circling them. "*Monster.* They'll dissect you, study how your heart beats *wrong.*" His gloved hand brushed 29's cheek. "The Nursery's mercy is… clean. Quick."
The girl in the corner wailed, nails clawing her scalp. "Liar! The Director said—!"
"The Director lies." 44's voice cracked like a whip. "He lied to me. To *her.*" He gestured to a corpse—Subject 12, her braids matted with gore. "She believed him. Look where it led."
34 sank to his knees, fists pounding the floor. "What do we *do*?!"
44 crouched, tilting 34's chin up. His gloves left smears of 12's blood. "You *stop.*"
A click.
34's eyes widened as the scalpel kissed his throat.
"Wait—!"
***Slice.***
44 caught him as he fell, lowering him gently. "Rest now. No more tests. No more… *hopes.*"
"Sleep in the emptiness forever, as it is the only thing that awaits use as humans"
When he turned, only 42 remained conscious—one eye swollen shut, the other burning with fury.
"You're… wrong," 42 rasped.
44 knelt, his breath frosting in the cold. "Prove it."
He pressed the scalpel into 42's palm, folding his fingers around the handle. "Survive. Suffer. *See.*"
As he exited, the hologram flickered once more—**5 → 4.**
Behind him, the girl's sobs dissolved into silence.