The whispers of the defective experiments continued in the dark corners of the hall:
"He's the one who will lead us out… a predator that preys on predators. A terrifying monster."
Experiment 545 stood at the center, the focus of their gaze—a monster crowned, not by choice, but by desperation. For the first time, hundreds of sad, broken, traumatized eyes looked at him not with fear… but with hope. With faith.
Yet in the shadows of the silent hallway, something gnawed at his chest like a rat, screaming wordlessly inside him: "This isn't freedom."
The freedom he once believed he could seize so easily now felt unreachable. He felt like a fish that thought it had escaped—only to realize it had merely been moved into a larger aquarium. A new chain bound him now. A heavier, tighter chain. One far harder to break.
The lights flickered again.
Not once. Not twice.
But in a rhythm—deliberate, mocking.
From behind, a voice shattered the silence. The voice of the mastermind—his biological father.
"Do you hear them, my offspring? The defectives have chosen you. Congratulations. You're now the leader of the broken. Just as I predicted."
Experiment 545 glared at him, his jaw tight.
"Predicted?"
He clenched his fists so hard his nails cut into his palms. His whole body trembled, from head to toe. Not from weakness. But from something he thought had long been dead inside him.
"Fear."
He hated it. He hated that feeling more than anything. He hated that his father could drag it out of him—through nothing more than a glance, an aura, a presence.
Experiment 545 lifted his head, meeting his father's gaze with burning eyes that were once blank and emotionless. A storm of feelings ignited within him.
"So this is what you want, Father? For me to kneel before you in fear?"
He spat on the floor, his voice sharp and steady.
"Then I'll do what none of your so-called perfect creations ever dared to do. I'll face the fear you planted in me—"
The old man laughed in disbelief, his mere presence heavy enough to smother everyone around him in terror.
Experiment 545 exhaled slowly, steadying himself. Then, without hesitation, he tossed the bloodstained key to the floor.
The metallic "clang" echoed like a war drum.
He smirked.
"If you want the throne, old man… come and take it from me."
And with no hesitation, he charged—straight toward his father.
Their shadows collided under the flickering lights.
And in that moment, every experiment watching understood one truth:
"Only one of them would walk away as king."