The voice in Jack's head kept whispering.
> "I was born from your fear. I feed on it."
He paced the white padded cell, gripping his hair, heart pounding.
> "You bled. I sharpened."
"No, stop," Jack muttered. "You're not real."
> "You summoned me, Jack. I'm part of you now."
He slammed his back into the wall, panting. He felt like he was cracking. Losing himself. Maybe that shot they gave him had done something. Maybe this was what going insane felt like.
Then—
Hiss.
A soft mechanical sound echoed behind him.
Jack turned quickly. A new seam had opened in the wall. A metal door, quiet as a whisper. His breathing slowed as he approached, cautious.
Inside was a bathroom, but it wasn't like any he'd ever seen.
Everything was molded into the wall — the toilet, the sink, even the mirror was polished metal. Nothing loose, nothing sharp. It was a room built for prisoners, or worse — unstable test subjects.
Jack stepped into the shower. The water turned on automatically.
Freezing.
The cold pierced his skin like needles. It hit the stitched bullet wound in his side like acid. He clenched his jaw and let it pour over him. No soap. No towel. Just cold water and silence.
It hurt.
But it grounded him.
When he finished, he stepped out, still dripping, and walked back into the padded room.
That's when the main door opened.
Three men entered. One in a black uniform. No mask.
"You can cooperate…" the man said flatly, "or be forced."
Jack stared at him, teeth clenched. His body still shook from the cold.
> I don't understand what's happening. I don't know what power they think I have.
But he needed answers. And resisting would only make things worse.
He nodded. "Fine."
The man gave a thin smirk and motioned. Two guards approached with thick, silver restraints and locked them around Jack's wrists. The moment they closed, Jack felt it — like static, humming just under his skin. His body felt heavier. The voices? Quieter.
These cuffs suppressed whatever power he had.
He was marched down several sterile white halls before reaching a massive chamber. When the doors opened, Jack's eyes widened.
The room was huge — a space the size of three football fields stacked side by side. The walls were reinforced steel, the floor smooth concrete with faded markings like it had seen hundreds of drills before him.
The guards unlocked the cuffs and backed out of the room quickly. The door sealed with a loud CLANG.
Jack stood alone in the center, breathing heavily.
Then the overhead speakers clicked on.
> "Welcome, Jack."
> "This is your training phase. You will remain here for the next few months."
> "If we find you useful, you live."
> "If not... you don't."
Click. The voice cut off.
Jack turned slowly, unsure what to expect—until the floor shook beneath his feet.
A section of the ground opened.
Rising from it was a massive humanoid robot — 7 feet tall, shoulders like tanks, arms like a bodybuilder's nightmare. Its plating was matte black, with red glowing eyes that locked onto Jack instantly.
Then the speakers returned one last time.
> "DEADLY MODE: ACTIVATED."
The robot charged.
Jack barely rolled to the side before a massive metal fist smashed the floor where he'd been. Concrete shattered. The shockwave knocked him back.
Before he could breathe, the robot spun around with surprising speed and slammed him in the chest.
Jack flew across the room like a ragdoll.
Crack.
He hit the wall. Pain shot through his ribs. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he dropped to his knees.
> I'm gonna die.
The robot started walking toward him. Slow. Inevitable.
Jack blinked through the blood in his eyes. He couldn't even move his arm.
Then—
> "Danger. We're not letting you die."
> "Let us out."
> "LET US OUT."
Pain surged through his neck — and then his arms. Red veins bloomed across his skin like lightning under glass.
Black smoke began to pour from Jack's back and shoulders, crackling with red energy.
He screamed as the pressure inside him exploded.
A shape began forming in the mist — tall, jagged, alien.
A second later, Scythe emerged.
The monster towered beside Jack, crouched like a hunter. Its arms ended in long, curved scythes. Its tail scraped the floor behind it, lined with serrated blades like a butcher's dream. Its eyeless head turned toward the robot — then locked on.
Scythe lunged.
The robot met it head-on, trading fast, heavy blows. The sound of steel-on-steel rang out through the massive room. Sparks flew. Scythe was faster — moving like wind, dodging, spinning, slicing.
But the robot was strong.
It landed a punch that knocked Scythe back — but the monster recovered mid-air, flipped, and dug its tail into the wall to slow its fall.
Then it struck again.
This time, Scythe feinted low — then slashed the robot's knee with a clean, violent stroke. The metal sparked and bent. The robot stumbled.
Scythe didn't hesitate.
With a final roar, it leapt, spinning with bladed arms wide—
SLAASHHH
The robot's head dropped to the floor.
Dead.
Silence returned.
Jack dropped to one knee, panting.
Scythe stood over the robot's body, breathing heavily, tail lashing behind it like a furious dog.
Then the chamber doors opened again.
The guards entered with electric batons and reapplied the handcuffs. Scythe snarled, stepping forward protectively.
One of the men raised a small remote.
Click.
ZAP.
Pain exploded in Jack's neck. His body jerked, and Scythe shrieked, dissolving into black smoke. Jack collapsed, unconscious before he hit the floor.