"What would you like to do today, Dr. Mark?"
Flynn sat obediently in the chair while Mark prepared a large metal syringe. The needle was long and cold as he inserted it carefully into the boy's thin arm, drawing blood slowly. Several of Mark's colleagues stood nearby, observing every movement.
"We want to see whether your blood differs from others," Mark replied evenly.
"Differs?" Flynn asked, blinking in confusion. "Am I different?"
It seemed Robert had not told him everything.
"Only slightly," Mark said. "But don't worry. You are still human. Just like us."
Flynn nodded.
"Are you scared?" Mark asked as he sealed the vial.
The boy shook his head. "I do what Father asks. He trusts you, so I trust you."
Instead of comfort, those words unsettled Mark. Something in the back of his mind whispered that this was wrong.
Children were like blank canvases. Easy to shape. Easy to guide. Flynn's loyalty might not be natural at all.
