The sterile corridors of Sector E felt colder than the rest of the facility, their dim lights casting long, ominous shadows. 00359's heart pounded in his chest as he moved swiftly but silently, his every step calculated. The guards were close—he could hear their boots echoing faintly in the distance—but for now, he was unseen.
"This place…" he muttered under his breath, pausing at a large metal door marked RESTRICTED ACCESS.
His telekinesis flared, tugging at the wires of the panel beside the door. It hissed and sparked as he worked, his mind sharp and focused despite the growing tension. Within moments, the lock clicked, and the door slid open.
Inside, the air was heavier, thick with the hum of active machinery. Rows of servers glowed softly in the dim light, their screens flashing streams of encrypted data. At the far end of the room was a terminal, larger than the others, with a holographic interface.
"Bingo," 00359 whispered, making his way to the console.
As he reached it, he placed a hand on the terminal, his telekinesis reaching into its systems. Lines of code unfurled before his mind's eye, complex but decipherable. He sifted through layers of security, bypassing firewalls until he reached a hidden directory labeled PROJECT DOMINION: SUBJECT PROFILES.
His breath hitched. He hesitated for a moment, knowing whatever was in these files could change everything. Then, with a mental command, he opened them.
The first profile was his own:
SUBJECT: 00359
True Name: [Access Denied]
Ability: Tech Telekinesis with heightened cognitive capacity
Assigned Title: The One who sees
Parent(s): Dr. Maria Calder, Senior Researcher – Project Dominion
His mind reeled as he read the name. Dr. Maria Calder. My mother? She's here? A flood of memories threatened to resurface, but he shoved them down. There wasn't time to dwell.
He scrolled to the next profile:
SUBJECT: 00351
True Name: [Access Denied]
Ability: Spatial Manipulation (Teleportation)
Secondary Ability: Access Denied Clearance Not High Enough.
Assigned Title: Little Dreamer
Parent(s): Dr. Callum Matrix, Lead Geneticist – Project Dominion
00359 clenched his fists as anger boiled in his chest. They know. They've known this whole time. His eyes scanned further, taking in the cold, clinical details of his best friend's file.
And then he saw the note: Marked for Disposal – Instability Detected.
"No," he whispered, his voice shaking. "They can't just—"
His anger threatened to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to focus. There was one more profile he needed to see.
SUBJECT: [Access Denied]
True Name: Kian Frost
Ability: Cryokinesis
Assigned Title: The Frozen Deity
Parent(s): Dr. Eleanor Frost, Tactical Coordinator – Project Dominion
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. All of their parents worked here. They weren't just prisoners—they were experiments, observed and manipulated by the very people who should have protected them.
He barely noticed the tears stinging his eyes as he backed away from the terminal. His mind was racing, a storm of anger, betrayal, and confusion swirling within him.
"They knew," he muttered. "They knew this whole time, and they still…"
A sudden noise snapped him out of his thoughts. Voices, loud and urgent, echoed from the corridor outside. The guards had found him.
Meanwhile, 00351 stumbled through the darkened corridors, his energy waning. Teleporting repeatedly had drained him, and the pounding headache that followed each jump wasn't helping.
"Damn it," he muttered, clutching his side. "00359, where are you?"
He turned a corner and nearly ran into 00009, who was limping badly, his hands trembling from overuse of his powers.
"You look like hell," 00351 said, trying to lighten the mood despite his exhaustion.
"Right back at you," 00009 replied with a weak grin. "Where's 00359?"
"I don't know," 00351 admitted. "We got separated after the last jump. He could be anywhere."
The sound of approaching guards cut their reunion short. Without a word, 00009 raised a trembling hand, forming a wall of ice behind them to block the path.
"That won't hold them for long," he said, his voice tight. "We need to move."
00351 nodded, but before they could take another step, the air around them seemed to vibrate. A low hum filled the corridor, followed by the faint hiss of gas.
"Trap," 00351 realized too late.
The gas spread quickly, burning their lungs and clouding their vision. 00351 tried to teleport, but his energy was too depleted. 00009 swung his arm in a desperate attempt to freeze the incoming guards, but his ice shattered against their riot shields.
Within moments, they were surrounded.
"Stand down," one of the guards barked, aiming a tranquilizer rifle at them.
00351 glared at the man, his fists clenched. "You won't keep us here," he growled.
"Funny," the guard replied, leveling his rifle. "You said that last time, too."
Back at the Terminal
00359 ducked into a maintenance duct just as the guards stormed the room. His heart was still racing from what he had discovered, but there was no time to process it. He needed to find his friends.
As he crawled through the narrow space, his mind replayed the files over and over. Their names. Their parents. Their titles. And the fact that 00351 was marked for disposal.
"Hold on," he whispered to himself. "I'll find you both. I promise."
But as he reached the end of the duct and peered into the corridor below, his stomach dropped.
Two guards were dragging 00351 and 00009 back toward the containment wing. Both boys were unconscious, their bodies limp.
"No," 00359 muttered, his hands trembling. "No, no, no."
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. He had to come up with a plan. He couldn't let them win. Not now.
"I'll get you out," he whispered, determination hardening his voice. "Even if it's the last thing I do.
The sharp, mechanical clicks of boots against the sterile floor echoed in the cold, unforgiving halls as 00351 and 00009 were dragged through the facility. Their wrists were bound tightly, the restraints digging into their skin with each forceful step. The guards flanked them, silent and unmoving, their cold eyes fixed on the path ahead.
00351's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing to make sense of the situation. He had barely begun to understand the strange words The Director had left him with, the cryptic hints that there was something greater, something hidden within him. But now, he was here, in the heart of the facility, and all he could do was follow, his thoughts a blur of confusion and fear.
Beside him, 00009 kept pace, their faces grim and unreadable. They had always been mysterious, holding their secrets close, but now they seemed... tense, like something was about to break. 00351 didn't know what it was, but he could feel it—an urgency in the air.
The facility felt different here, darker. The walls closed in, the air thick with the oppressive weight of secrets. They moved deeper into the complex, passing through reinforced doors and narrow hallways, the low hum of machinery in the distance. Each step brought them closer to something—something they both sensed but couldn't fully comprehend.
Finally, they arrived at a large, imposing room. The doors slid open with a low hiss, revealing the Dictator. He sat at the far end of the room, in a chair that seemed carved from the darkness itself. His presence was suffocating, his gaze sharp and calculating. He didn't need to say a word for his power to fill the room.
00351 stiffened as he was shoved forward, the air around him growing colder, more oppressive. This man—this figure—was more than just a leader. He was a force, one that radiated control and authority.
The Dictator's eyes locked onto him, a cold smile forming on his lips as if he were studying a specimen in a lab. "Welcome," his voice was low, smooth, but carrying an undertone of something darker. "I've been expecting you."
00351's throat tightened, but he forced the words out. "What do you want from us?"
The Dictator didn't immediately answer. Instead, he stood slowly, his eyes flicking to 00009 before settling on 00351. There was a deliberate pause, as if savoring the moment before speaking.
"You've been asking questions," he said, his tone almost casual, as though this was all part of some larger game. "And now, I'll give you one answer."
00351's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
The Dictator took a step forward, his voice dropping lower, his gaze never leaving 00351. "You are not who you think you are. Not anymore. You've been conditioned to believe in a world of limitations, but there are no limits for you. You're destined for something much greater."
00351's pulse quickened. Was this some kind of manipulation? He couldn't quite tell. He had felt the weight of something buried inside him, something he didn't understand, but hearing the Dictator speak like this was unsettling. Everything he had known, every truth he had clung to, was being ripped away with each word.
"Why?" 00351 asked, his voice shaky but defiant. "Why are you telling me this?"
The Dictator's smile widened, but it was cold, devoid of any warmth. "Because you need to know. You need to understand your place in all of this."
00351's mind spun, trying to process what the Dictator was saying. "What place? What are you talking about?"
The Dictator stepped closer, his shadow falling over 00351 like a heavy curtain. "You've been searching for answers. But the truth is simpler than you think. You've been given a name. A name that will unlock your potential. That is your true identity."
00351's confusion deepened. "A name? What name?"
The Dictator's smile twisted into something more sinister. "Little Dreamer."
The words hung in the air, echoing in the silence between them. "Little Dreamer"—the name that felt like a key, yet it unlocked nothing for him. It was as if a door had been opened, but there was no way to step through it. Nothing made sense.
"That's all you need to know for now," the Dictator said, his voice cutting through the confusion like a blade. "The rest will come in time."
00351's heart raced. "What do you want from me?" he repeated, his voice more urgent now. This wasn't just some game. There was power here. A power he didn't understand, but needed to grasp.
The Dictator didn't respond immediately. He simply studied 00351 for a long, drawn-out moment, as if weighing his next move. Finally, he motioned to the guards.
"Take them away," he ordered coldly. "We'll see what comes of it."
Before 00351 could say another word, the guards moved in, roughly grabbing him and 00009, pulling them away from the Dictator. The room seemed to grow darker as they were dragged out, leaving only the sound of their footsteps to mark their departure.
As the doors slammed shut behind them, 00351's mind raced. Little Dreamer. The name haunted him, echoing in his thoughts, but he couldn't yet understand its meaning. What did it have to do with him? With what he was meant to become?
And who—or what—was the true power behind it all?
Somewhere in the facility, hidden away in the shadows of Sector E, 00359 had been making his own plans. For the past few days, he had been working in secret, slipping through the cracks of the facility unnoticed. Sector E was a desolate place—an area so restricted that few ever ventured there.
High-level personnel passed through occasionally, but they were always in a rush, moving quickly and with purpose, giving him little reason to fear discovery. In the quiet corners of Sector E, he had built a small hideout, a space where he could listen, watch, and gather intel. Here, he could hear things—the whispers that floated through the halls, the faint sounds of conversations too soft to catch in other areas of the facility. What he learned could be the key to understanding everything, to uncovering the truth hidden within these walls.
00359 knew he couldn't wait forever, though. He had to move fast before everything began to unravel, and before anyone realized that he, too, had become part of the complex web of secrets that the Dictator had spun.