Nexar didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stood there, arms crossed, his back pressed against the wall so no one could flank him. No openings. No weakness exposed.
This was nothing new to him. His whole life had been inside cages—this room was no different. The only difference was that this one was quieter. Trickier. And of course, he didn't trust it. Trust didn't matter anyway. After everything he had endured, he knew he could handle whatever came next.
It was Odysseus who broke the silence. He sat upright on the bed, grin still plastered across his scarred face.
"Well," he said, chuckling, "I think it's better if we actually know each other's names. Unless you guys want to keep calling each other 'hey,' 'psst,' or 'oi.'"
He tapped his chest. "Odysseus. Lab Twelve. I've been beaten, starved, forced into things I don't even want to say out loud… all the same things I'm sure you've all gone through. But I'm still here." His grin faltered for just a moment, then steadied again. "I don't care about being king. Or the strongest. Or an apex predator. I just don't want to die alone. If I die… at least let it be with friends. That's all."
The giant shifted uncomfortably on his bed, the steel frame groaning beneath his weight. His massive hands curled and uncurled as though he didn't know what to do with them. After a long silence, his voice rumbled, low but unsure.
"They called me Brutus. A name I never liked. Not my real name. Just something the scientists threw at me."
He scratched the back of his neck, gaze dropping to the floor, too shy to meet their eyes. His voice softened to a whisper that didn't match his frame.
"I don't like fighting. I only survived because of my size and strength. But I… I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just couldn't control it."
Odysseus leaned forward, curious. "Why'd they call you Brutus? And what do you mean you didn't mean to kill the other experiments? Is that even possible?"
Brutus's deep voice dropped lower.
"They called me Brutus because they said I was brutal. All the experiments I killed—they lost limbs. Bodies flattened. That's why they branded me with that name."
He clenched his fists, shame flickering across his face.
"I didn't mean it. I can't control my strength. When I tried to shake hands, I tore their arms off. When I walked the narrow halls in the dark, I didn't see them. I crushed them against the walls like flies. They were too light. Too small. Too fragile. I barely even felt them break. And yet… I don't like killing. I never did."
For the first time, Nexar spoke. His voice was even, calm, but it carried weight.
"If you don't mind me asking… what's your real name? Did you choose one? Or did someone give it to you?"
Brutus hesitated, his huge frame shrinking as if the memory itself was heavier than his body.
"I don't know if it's my real name. But the last memory I have of my mother is a stormy night. She was weak. Her body was falling apart ever since she gave birth to me. I was born too big, too heavy, and she paid the price for it." His voice cracked slightly. "She always told me it wasn't my fault, but I knew. I was the reason she was dying."
He swallowed hard, looking at the floor.
"That night, she wrapped me in towels to keep me warm. Sang me a lullaby. When I woke up… she was gone. I was in an orphanage. The towel she used had a single word stitched on it. 'Mamik.' That's the only thing she left me. So that's the name I carry."
The room fell quiet.
Odysseus leaned back, his expression gentler than before. "We'd never know you had a story like that if we weren't locked in here together. Your build is the opposite of your soul, Mamik. People look at you and see something brutal. But I can see it—you're a kind heart. A gentle giant."
He turned his attention to the girl. "Alright then… who's next? Oh. The only girl on our team."
She shifted for the first time, her frail body swaying as though even sitting was a struggle. Skin and bone. Yet her eyes carried a gloom that silenced the room.
"They never gave me a name," she whispered. "I was never a person. Just a tool for their experiments. Names don't change what we are."
Odysseus blinked, then suddenly blurted, "Esha!"
Everyone turned to him in confusion.
He scratched his head, embarrassed. "Sorry. That was my little sister's name. It just slipped out. You… you remind me of her." He gave a faint, sad smile. "Why don't we call you Esha? Since you don't have a name. Feels like… like I have a piece of her still here."
The girl tilted her head. Her lips twitched, as if she wanted to frown but couldn't. She whispered, almost too shy to be heard, "Esha… sounds pretty. I like it."
Odysseus clapped his hands together. "Good! Then it's settled. Esha it is."
He looked toward the last one, the boy leaning against his locker, grin carved deep into his face. "Alright, Smiles. Your turn. I've been dying to know why you laugh so much. Even here, in this place."
The boy tapped the locker with his knuckles, steady, rhythmic. His grin didn't fade. Not even for a second. It made everyone uneasy.
He finally spoke. His voice was casual, almost playful.
"Name's Jester. That's what I call myself, anyway. But in the lab, they called me Smiles."
None of them reacted. The name was obvious.
Jester's grin stretched wider, but his eyes drifted far away, to someplace darker.
"They said I laughed too much while they cut me open. Said it wasn't normal. Thought I was mocking them. But the truth is…" His voice dropped, raw and hollow. "It wasn't defiance. It was survival. I smiled because if I stopped smiling, I'd scream. And if I screamed, they'd break me worse."
For the first time, his grin faltered. His hands clenched against the locker. His voice shook.
"My father used to beat my mother. Beat me too. Always drunk. When I tried to protect her, he beat me harder. And when I cried… he hit me until I stopped. So I learned to smile. I learned to laugh. Because if I laughed, sometimes he'd stop." His shoulders trembled, but his grin returned, trembling with it. "I smiled so long I forgot what a real smile feels like."
The room fell into silence. Mamik lowered his head. Esha's sharp eyes softened. Even Odysseus's ever-present grin faded away.
Then Jester clapped his hands once, too loud, jolting them out of the quiet. His grin snapped back into place, sharp and unshaken.
"But look at me now. Still here. Still smiling. Guess it worked, huh?"
His laughter filled the dorm, bouncing off the walls.
And now they understood—
It wasn't joy.
It was a scar.