Nex's chest was heavy. Every word the children spoke had carved something ugly into his heart, a weight he couldn't shake. Hatred—burning, sharp, cold hatred—rose in him for the people who had done this. For the "researchers" who thought they could treat children like animals to be torn apart.
His fists trembled, nails digging into his palm, but then—
"Look, mister…"
Two little ones shuffled up to him. Their hands clutched toys—if they could even be called that. A stuffed bear with its head half torn off, an old wooden block missing pieces, a doll with one eye scratched out.
Nex's throat tightened. Something inside him cracked.
"…These… are your toys?" he asked softly.
The little girl nodded, clutching the broken bear to her chest. "They're all we have. The bad men didn't like us having them, but we hid them."
The boy on Nex's back shifted, holding up the one-eyed doll proudly. "She's our friend. She listens when we're scared."
Nex's vision blurred for a second. He swallowed hard, forcing his voice steady. "I see… She must be really brave, huh?"
The boy giggled and rested his chin on Nex's shoulder. The girl, still hugging the bear, shyly sat down beside his lap, her small body leaning against him. Without thinking, Nex's hand moved—he placed it gently on her head and stroked her hair, slow and careful, the way one would calm a frightened kitten.
She closed her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"…Warm," she whispered.
The boy clinging to his back let out a soft yawn, as though Nex's presence alone was enough to make him feel safe.
Nex's chest ached. He sat there with them, one arm holding the boy steady, the other brushing tenderly through the girl's hair.
"You don't deserve any of this," he muttered, voice low but heavy. "Not the pain. Not the scars. Not the fear."
The girl blinked up at him, innocent and unknowing. "But we have each other. That's enough… right?"
Her words cut deeper than any blade. Nex looked at their broken toys, their fragile smiles, and felt hatred flare so strong it almost burned through his skin.
In his heart, there was no room for mercy. The researchers, the ones who had stolen these children's lives and innocence… they would pay. He swore it.
But for now—he just sat there. Silent, steady, a shield for them, as small hands clung to him like he was the only safe thing in the world.
Some of the children had already drifted off to sleep, curled together on the floor with their little mana beasts beside them. Their breathing was soft, peaceful, like they hadn't felt in years.
Nex sat against the wall, the boy still on his back half-asleep, the girl by his side hugging the broken bear. His body was tired, but his mind was a storm.
Then he saw the blonde-haired boy—the one with the mismatched eyes—walking over. In his small hands was a thin, worn-out book. The cover was cracked, but there was still a faded crown drawn on it.
The boy looked up at Nex, his voice quiet but warm.
"Mister… can you help me read this?"
Nex blinked, then slowly nodded. "Of course."
The boy sat down cross-legged in front of him and opened the book. The words were faded, some barely legible. The boy squinted, his lips moving as if he already knew parts of it but struggled. Nex leaned closer, his voice calm and low as he guided him through each line.
"The king… was not the strongest. Not the richest. Not the smartest. But he was… the kindest."
The boy repeated after him, stumbling over the longer words but pushing through, determination shining in his mismatched eyes. Nex's chest tightened as he heard him.
After a few pages, the boy looked up suddenly, smiling in that way only a child could. "I also want to be like him. A kind king. Someone who takes care of everyone."
For a moment, Nex couldn't speak. His throat felt locked. A boy who had suffered, who had been cut open and experimented on, still wanted to be kind?
He reached out, almost without thinking, and ruffled the boy's soft blonde hair. "You'll be more than that. You'll be the kind of king the world doesn't deserve."
The boy's cheeks flushed, and he giggled softly before going back to the book.
Nex read with him until the boy's words slowed, his head drooping against the pages. Carefully, Nex lifted the book away and set it aside, letting the child rest against his chest.
Looking down at the sleeping children all around him, Nex clenched his jaw. His eyes hardened, burning with quiet rage.
They still dream of kings and kindness… while the monsters who did this hide in shadows.
He placed a hand on the boy's back, feeling his small breaths. I'll tear every one of those monsters apart. I swear it.
But his voice, when he whispered, was soft.
"Sleep well, little king."
The lab was silent. Only the sound of small breaths and the faint hum of broken machinery filled the darkness.
But inside Nex, silence did not exist.
It started as a dull throb in his chest, the memory of the stitched monsters he'd fought, their twisted voices crying "save me" while bleeding black. Then came the vaults—the jars filled with organs, the papers about experiments, the mutilated bodies.
Every second he sat there, the storm swelled. His smile from watching the children sleep faltered whenever the memories clawed back.
His jaw clenched until it hurt. His fists curled so tightly his nails cut into his palms, blood dripping down. He imagined faceless researchers—those who had taken these children, cut them open, forced mana beast cores and demonic essence into their fragile bodies.
His mind painted it in detail: scalpels tearing through skin, screams echoing in sterile halls, tiny hands reaching out for help that never came.
The images bled into violence.
He saw himself ripping those researchers apart, one by one. Bones snapping under his grip like twigs. Their screams becoming music. His vectors skewering their bodies, twisting, pulling, until nothing but shredded meat remained.
He wanted to hear them beg. To watch their eyes fill with terror—the same terror these children must have felt.
Hatred seared him from within, hotter than any fire. His breathing grew rough, chest heaving, teeth grinding. For a moment, it felt like the rage would consume him completely.
If any of those monsters in white coats stood before him now, Nex knew… he wouldn't stop. Not until there was nothing left. Not until the floor was painted red.
He trembled—not from fear, but because the bloodlust was too much to contain.
And yet—
A soft tug broke through the storm.
Small fingers clung to his sleeve. One of the younger children stirred, drowsy, rubbing his eyes with a tiny fist before nuzzling against Nex's arm. Another shifted on his lap, mumbling half-asleep nonsense, her little horns brushing his chest.
The rage cracked.
His gaze softened instantly, and his fists unclenched. He forced air through his lungs, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"…It's okay. I'm here."
Hours passed like that, the war inside him raging, only soothed by the warmth of ten fragile lives leaning against him.
Finally, three hours later, the children began to stir properly. They rubbed their eyes, yawning, their mana beasts stretching beside them.
The blonde-haired boy and the shy girl lifted their heads from where they'd been resting on him, blinking drowsily. For a second, they froze, embarrassed—faces red as they realized they'd been clinging to him in sleep.
But Nex only smiled. A small, proud smile that held no judgment.
Seeing it, both of them smiled back, shy but bright.
"…Mister Nex," the blonde boy muttered, voice still thick with sleep. "Will you play with us?"
The shy girl nodded, clutching his sleeve. "J-Just for a little…"
Nex's chest loosened. He leaned forward, brushing his hand through her hair with surprising gentleness.
"Of course," he said simply. No hesitation, no questions.
The children's eyes lit up. Their voices rose, playful and bright, cutting through the shadows of the lab.
For a while—just a little while—Nex let go of the storm inside him and gave them what they wanted.
The air in the hidden grove was warmer than the rest of the lab. Strange light filtered through the mossy ceiling, glowing faintly like dawn, though Nex knew it was still buried under stone and steel.
Ten children stirred around him, yawning, stretching, their tiny mana beasts squeaking awake. The blonde-haired boy blinked at him and grinned.
"Mister Nex… you said you'd play."
The shy horned girl tugged at his sleeve, face still red. "C-Can we… just a little?"
Nex breathed out. The rage simmering under his skin never left—it pulsed in his veins, whispering of vengeance—but their small, hopeful faces were stronger than the storm. He gave them a lopsided smile.
"Alright. Let's play."
The response was instant. Cheer erupted like fireworks. The boy with stubby horns climbed onto his back again, giggling, while two younger girls clapped their hands. Mana beasts bounded around—tiny wolves, a rabbit with feathered ears, even a small fox with a glowing tail.
Nex stood, brushing the dirt from his clothes, and raised one hand. With a flick of his fingers, invisible vectors stretched out, bending the air itself.
The children gasped.
"Mister Nex is magic!" one shouted.
Another pointed. "Look, look—the air is moving!"
With a smirk, Nex pulled. The children's broken toys—ragged wooden soldiers, cracked dolls, and chipped blocks—rose into the air. Invisible threads spun them around in circles, bobbing and twirling as if they were alive again.
The shy girl's eyes widened. "T-They're dancing…"
He nodded. "Toys don't have to stay broken."
The children squealed in delight, chasing after the floating objects. The wolf cub barked, trying to leap up and catch one of the spinning blocks. Nex angled the vector just so, lifting the toy just out of reach, making the cub bounce and tumble while the kids laughed until they cried.
One brave boy tugged Nex's hand. "Make me fly too!"
Nex raised an eyebrow. "Fly, huh? You sure you can handle it?"
The boy puffed out his chest. "I'm strong!"
"Alright then."
With careful control, Nex curled two vectors under the boy's sides and lifted him gently into the air. The boy's legs kicked wildly at first, shrieks of laughter spilling out, but soon he stretched his arms like wings, soaring in circles above the other kids.
"I'm a bird! Look, I'm flying!"
The others jumped and waved, begging for turns. Nex chuckled, indulging them one by one—lifting a girl high enough to brush the glowing moss on the wall, spinning another around like a carousel, letting the shy girl hover close to his chest so she felt safe.
Their laughter filled the lab. Innocent, pure.
And it tore at him.
Because all he could think was how easily this joy could've been stolen. How many nights these same children must have cried in pain, trapped in cold cages, their bodies cut open.
His smile never wavered, but inside the rage grew sharper, hotter, like blades grinding together.
Still, he played.
He crafted small games with his vectors—walls of force that acted like mazes for them to run through, invisible platforms that let them hop higher and higher, even juggling the mana beasts in careful loops until they squealed happily.
The blonde boy, flushed from laughter, ran up to him, holding the worn storybook.
"Mister Nex! When we're done, will you read again?"
Nex crouched, ruffling the boy's golden hair.
"Of course. I'll read as much as you want."
The boy's grin was so bright it almost hurt to look at.
As the play wore on, the children grew more daring—climbing on him, tugging at his arms, giggling when he pretended to fall dramatically. Four ended up clinging to him at once, one on his shoulders, two on his arms, another stubbornly wrapped around his leg.
Nex let them win, collapsing onto the mossy floor with a grunt.
"Too strong… I'm defeated…"
Their cheers echoed like a victory chorus.
For a moment, in this broken lab filled with horrors, it felt like a sanctuary. A fragile bubble of light carved out of the dark.
Nex lay back, letting them climb over him, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the storm inside roared louder than ever.
He would kill every last one of those researchers.
Not for himself. Not even for vengeance.
But for them