Dr. Bin was waiting. He watched impassively as Mikey placed the body on a stretcher.
"Who is this?" Bin asked, frowning. "This is not who I asked you to retrieve."
Mikey, looking exhausted, replied, "He escaped. Lao almost got him down, but he got away."
"Lao," Bin muttered, his voice cold with anger. "He's offended me. The sooner I get his blood, the better."
He threw a jar to Mikey. Without hesitation, Mikey grabbed it, unscrewed the lid, and poured its contents—blood—into his mouth.
Bin approached the body with purpose. He began to cut, his movements deliberate, his eyes filled with dark intent as he extracted the blood.
Mikey, feeling the rush of power course through him, stepped onto a button on the floor. As he did, he screamed in agony, blood splattering in all directions. His transformation into the monstrous form was painful, the wool on his body flaring as the blood coursed through him. Eventually, the pain became too much, and he collapsed, his monstrous features fading as he fell unconscious.
A knock echoed through the facility. It was a clear sign that whoever was at the door was new—no one who belonged there would knock. Dr. Bin wasn't worried; his security measures were far too strong for any intruder to breach.
Outside stood Harry and Dick. It was Harry who knocked, signaling his deception. Harry knew the rules, but he wanted to show Dr. Bin that someone useless was with him. He was playing a dangerous game, and Dick would end up being the pawn.
Dr. Bin watched from a distance, his mind calculating. A new recruit was coming in, but something about Harry didn't sit right with him. He couldn't risk exposing himself.
Downstairs, Mikey was recovering from the blood ritual. He was still woozy, but much better than when he first arrived.
"Mikey, Harry is outside," Bin said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
Mikey was too preoccupied to pay attention. "What did you do to me?" he asked, staring at the bloodstains that covered his body.
"What do you think? You needed blood," Bin replied with an air of pride. "Look over there. That's your victim. We're progressing faster than I thought."
Mikey glanced at the dead man, but a sense of confusion clouded his thoughts. He didn't recognize the man, didn't know how he'd killed him.
"How...?" Mikey stammered, unable to form a coherent thought.
"You don't need to worry about the details," Bin said with a smile. "This is science. My technology. By the time we have enough blood, you'll be in charge of the world. We'll do it together."
Mikey frowned, trying to shake off the dread creeping up his spine. "Where did I work today? Please tell me it wasn't from my school again?"
"No, no," Bin reassured him. "That reminds me of Perry. She's doing fine. She had an interview this afternoon. Maybe—"
Bin walked over to the television, flipping through the channels.
"Let's hear what she has to say," Bin said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement.
He stopped flipping through the channels when Mikey grabbed his arm.
On the screen was footage from the lab, the scene where Mikey had killed Max. He didn't know it was him at first. But as the images played out, something inside Mikey snapped. He couldn't ignore it anymore. The motorcar on the screen—Dr. Bin had shown him that car before. It was his creation, his monstrous technology.
Mikey walked over to the car, inspecting it with cold curiosity. Blood still stained the seat, the evidence of Max's violent death all over the interior.
"Do you have a problem with what you see?" Dr. Bin asked, his tone a mix of amusement and pride.
"Yes," Mikey spat, his anger boiling over. "Who is that on the screen?"
Bin looked at him without flinching. "Of course, it's you."
In a blur of motion, Mikey lunged at Bin, throwing him to the ground. His fists came down like a storm, each punch fueled by the fury building inside him.
"What have you done to me?!" Mikey roared.
"You've turned me into a monster!"
This time, Dr. Bin was silent. The weight of Mikey's fury hung heavy in the room, but Bin had no immediate response. It wasn't fear that held him back—he had long learned to control any such emotion. Rather, it was the realization of his grand design that kept his thoughts elsewhere. Mikey was an important piece in his plans, an essential part of the vision he had nurtured for years. He had promised Mikey power, dominance, a future as a leader of an army unlike any the world had seen—an army of blood-machines.
Mikey's transformation had been the first of many. Dr. Bin was well aware that Mikey was just the beginning. As the blood machines multiplied, his influence would grow. He had invested years into this project, refining his technology, perfecting the process. Soon, he would have an army at his command—unstoppable, untraceable, and entirely loyal to him. The world, he believed, would bow before his creation.
In the midst of these thoughts, the sharp sound of knocking interrupted the heavy silence. Dr. Bin frowned.
"Why is Harry knocking?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else in the room.
Mikey, still seething with anger, looked toward the door with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. "What's Harry doing here? I thought you had things under control."
Dr. Bin raised an eyebrow, his mind momentarily distracted by Mikey's question. He knew Harry's role in the larger picture but hadn't expected him to be so brazen. Harry was too unpredictable, too willing to take risks that could expose them all.
"I should be asking you that," Bin replied, his tone darkening. "Harry's presence could be trouble. If he's messing with me, I'll deal with him in my own way."
Mikey's hands balled into fists, his monstrous form still a reminder of the power he had barely begun to control. He didn't want to be distracted from his own predicament, but the threat of Harry's meddling was just another reminder of how fragile their situation truly was.
"Just let me handle this, Mikey," Bin said, his voice cold and authoritative. "You're still learning to control yourself. I can't have you going off half-cocked and ruining everything we've worked for."
Mikey let out a low growl but said nothing more. He didn't entirely trust Dr. Bin, but he also knew that without him, he'd be lost. The blood coursing through his veins gave him strength, but it also made him feel like a stranger to himself. The urge to lash out was constant, and if he wasn't careful, it could overwhelm him.
Bin, sensing Mikey's frustration, turned his attention back to the door.
"I'll take care of it," he muttered, moving quickly toward the entryway. He didn't want to give Harry the satisfaction of seeing him flustered. As he reached the door, he paused for a moment, adjusting his coat, and then opened it just enough to see who stood on the other side.
Harry stood there, his expression unreadable. But it was clear that something had shifted.
"Bin," Harry said, his voice calm but edged with something darker. "We need to talk."
Dr. Bin's eyes narrowed. He wasn't interested in pleasantries. He had too many things to manage. Mikey was a ticking time bomb, and Harry's interference was the last thing he needed.
"Not now, Harry," Bin replied curtly, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I don't have time for your games today."
Harry pushed the door open wider, stepping inside. "It's not a game," he said, his voice lower now. "There are things happening—things you're not aware of. The government's already moving in on Officer Max's disappearance. They're offering a reward. People are asking questions. If you don't take action soon, everything could fall apart."
Dr. Bin's eyes flickered with a flash of irritation. The mention of Officer Max's disappearance—the same disappearance that had triggered this entire chaotic turn of events—was a sore spot. The government's involvement threatened to expose everything he had been working on. But he couldn't afford to show any weakness.
"Let them search. Let them offer their rewards," Bin said, his voice calm, almost dismissive. "They can't find anything. Max is dead, and no one will ever know the truth of what happened here."
Harry's eyes darkened, but he didn't argue. He knew Dr. Bin was right about one thing: there were no traces left behind, no evidence that could point back to them. But still, Harry wasn't convinced.
"Fine," Harry said after a beat, "but don't say I didn't warn you. If things go south, there's only so much you can control."
Dr. Bin didn't respond. Instead, he stepped back, signaling that the conversation was over.
"I'll deal with it, Harry. Now, if you don't mind, I've got more pressing matters to attend to."
As Harry turned to leave, Dr. Bin's mind was already elsewhere. His thoughts shifted back to Mikey and the blood-machines. The reward, the search, the mounting pressure—none of it mattered in the grand scheme of his plans. Soon, everything would fall into place. The world was on the verge of something monumental, something only he had the power to orchestrate. And no one—not even Harry or the government—would stand in his way.