Vael slowly opened his eyes, pain still pulsing through every inch of his body. Right now, he felt more like a corpse than a living being.
As his vision cleared, he realized he was no longer in the snowy forest. Instead, he was lying in a sterile, white room. It was bare, save for a simple bed and a small toilet in the corner.
A prison cell.
Before he could process anything further, the door on the far end of the room opened with a hiss.
A lanky man in a white coat stepped inside. He wore glasses and a surgical mask, concealing most of his face. His sharp, clinical stare gave away his intent — he wasn't here for conversation. He was here to study.
"Welcome, Subject 2467," the man said flatly. "My name is Dr. Smith, and I'll be overseeing your stay in this fine establishment."
"Why me?" Vael growled, pushing himself upright with difficulty. "Why did it have to be me?! I never did anything to you… So why—why kill them?!"
The doctor let out a dry chuckle. "You're funny, little man. But you've got it all wrong."
He adjusted his glasses and continued, "You're in the L.O.O.O.U.A.B. — the Laboratory Of Observation Of Unique Awakened Beings. As the name suggests, this is a classified facility dedicated to testing… irregular awakened specimens. Human or otherwise."
Vael's heart pounded. "But I'm not even awakened… So why am I here?"
"Yet being the key word," Dr. Smith replied coldly. "Our objective is to forcibly awaken you. After that, we'll run experiments until one of three outcomes occurs:
One — you prove useless and we dispose of you.
Two — you die during testing.
Three — you survive, and are drafted into our ranks."
Vael's hands clenched into fists. "But… I'm nothing special," he muttered, voice trembling. "Why go this far for someone like me?"
The doctor tilted his head, amused. "Oh, but you are special. You just don't know it yet."
He took a step closer, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "You possess a spatial affinity — rare, powerful, and largely unexplored. That makes you the perfect lab rat. Our goal is to crack open that mystery, piece by piece."
He turned to leave but paused at the door.
"Rest well, Subject 2467. Your hell begins tomorrow."
The door hissed shut, leaving Vael alone in silence — the weight of his nightmare just beginning.
As the day dragged on, Vael had nothing to do but think.
The deaths of his family — his mother, Antalon, Mira — and the destruction of his entire village still haunted him like a fresh wound. The shame of his helplessness weighed on him like chains. He hadn't even put up a fight. He hadn't been able to save anyone.
His thoughts drifted to the present. Locked away in some unknown facility, completely alone. He had no idea where he was — or even what he was to them now. A test subject. A prisoner. A thing.
Odds were, they'd kill him soon. Slowly. Painfully.
With that grim thought, exhaustion caught up to him, and he drifted into uneasy sleep.
⸻
The next morning, the sound of the door hissing open stirred him awake.
But it wasn't Dr. Smith this time.
An older woman stood in the doorway, her grey hair tied into a tight bun, her posture military-straight. She wore a faded white uniform and had a cold, impassive face.
"Get up," she said flatly.
Vael obeyed without question and followed her out into the cold, sterile corridor. They walked in silence for several minutes, the only sounds being their footsteps echoing off the metal floors.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a large steel door — behind it, the dull roar of voices could be heard.
When the door opened, Vael was hit with the sight of a vast cafeteria packed with people. Hundreds — maybe thousands — of them. Some looked like prisoners, others more like soldiers or guards. Everyone had one thing in common: the moment Vael stepped in, their eyes turned to him.
Whispers didn't stop, but conversations shifted. He was the new face — fresh meat.
Predatory stares met him from every direction. There was a hierarchy here, and Vael had just walked in at the very bottom.
The woman led him to the food counter, where he was handed a shallow metal bowl filled with… something. A lukewarm, beige, gluey mass that looked like it had been scooped off the floor.
Without a word, he found a spot in the far corner of the room and ate in silence, trying not to draw more attention than necessary.
Once he finished, he was escorted back to his cell.
Waiting for him was Dr. Smith.
"Good," the man said without looking up from his clipboard. "You're adapting."
He looked up, adjusted his glasses, and began listing off Vael's new routine:
"From now on, your day will follow a strict structure," he began.
1.Wake up. Eat. Return to your cell.
2.Experimentation phase. This will take up the majority of your day.
3.Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
Dr. Smith closed his clipboard with a snap.
"No deviations. No questions."
Vael didn't respond. He simply nodded, jaw clenched.
"Excellent," the doctor said, already turning away. "Come. It's time to begin."
And so, Vael followed the man down the cold hallway, toward the lab where his torment would begin.