The walls weren't iron. Not steel. Just… metal.Cold enough to remember.
The boy didn't move.
Not because he was scared.Fear had use. Fear kept the others alive.
He didn't move because there was nothing left to learn.
He had already mapped the room.The way the vent exhaled when someone passed.The shift in the guard's gait when he was bored.The timing of meals.The pattern of insects crawling under the door.
A roach skirted across the floor.
It paused. Turned. And veered sharply toward him—unnatural, deliberate.He didn't flinch. Just blinked once. The signal was silent.
From the upper grate, something skittered. A rat this time.It didn't make a sound as it watched, waiting.
They always waited.
They think darkness is quiet. Still. Empty.But it's not.Darkness hums differently when you're born in it.It whispers. Scratches. Learns your name before you even know it yourself.
Across the glass, men in coats argued. They didn't know he could hear them.They didn't know the roaches brought voices back in their legs.
He listened.They spoke of anomalies. Progress. Risk thresholds. Chakra flow disruptions.
One leaned in close, tapping on the glass. "He's not reacting. Nothing. Not even eye movement."
Another clicked his pen. "Vitals are stable. Brain scans are… unnerving."
And then the door opened.
Not with fanfare. No dramatic hiss or security sweep. Just a simple mechanical grind.
He stepped in—tall, lean, sharp at the edges like a scalpel. His coat dragged slightly as if it was too long on purpose.
The others didn't speak. One even stepped back.
The man's eyes found the boy. They didn't scan him. They saw him.
"You didn't scream," he said. His voice wasn't kind. Wasn't cruel either. Just… surgical.
The boy blinked again.
"I've read your files. Not much in them. Burned lab. Missing researchers. No birth certificate. Just a note: 'uncooperative.'"
He circled once. "But rats and insects gather when you sleep."
Silence.
"I've seen this before. Not quite like you. But close." He knelt down, just far enough to be out of arm's reach. "You're not just a subject."
A pause. The man smiled faintly, not at him—but at a private conclusion.
"You're the variable."
People see power as lightning. Loud. Bright. Flashy.They never suspect the shadow under the bed. The rustle in the vents.I never wanted to be seen.Only to be left alone.
"I want to take you out of here," the man said. "Not to set you free. You're not a bird in a cage. You're a weapon in the wrong hands."
Silence again.
The boy tilted his head. Just slightly.
The rat in the grate above vanished. Gone without sound.
The man stood, nodding once as if confirming something only he understood.
"I was a friend of your father. A monster in the eyes of many. Just like me."He turned toward the door.
"And you… you are his echo."
The boy blinked for the third time.The roach stopped crawling.
The guards didn't try to stop him as he walked out with the man.
They didn't even make eye contact.Monsters had that effect.
Monsters don't lurk in the dark. They wait for you to feel safe in it.