Chapter: 10 Cold Reality

Empire

Unknown Research Facility

"Hello, little friend."

Dr. Stylish's voice carried an unnatural warmth as he stood before the antiseptic tank, his eyes gleaming with a twisted fascination.

Inside the green-tinged liquid, a boy, now grotesquely transformed, floated, his body restrained by straps of an unknown material.

His once-human visage was now unrecognizable, a demonic creature born of inhumane experiments.

The boy's eyes trembled as he attempted to move his limbs. But his attempts were futile.

The straps held him firmly, leaving him immobile. He felt the unfamiliar sensation of breathing underwater and wondered, 'Why am I not suffocating?'

"%@%$@$..." he tried to speak, but only bubbles escaped his mouth. His surprise deepened as the water failed to invade his lungs or irritate his eyes.

Dr. Stylish observed the boy with a smug expression.

After a few moments, he pressed a series of buttons on the console.

The tank's contents began to drain, and the boy's feet touched the bottom of the chamber, supporting his weight for the first time since his ordeal began.

"My apologies," the doctor said, his tone feigning gentleness. "Even as 'THE GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL' Dr. Stylish, I was so consumed by my brilliant work that I overlooked the inconvenience of water hindering your voice."

His words felt more like a performance than genuine concern. His flamboyant demeanor seemed carefully crafted to unsettle and distract.

The boy's lips quivered. "Who are you? Where am I? Why can't I move my body? Where are my parents?" His voice was an unexpected melody, so sweet and enchanting that it seemed out-of-place coming from such a monstrous form.

Dr. Stylish froze, his mind racing. 'How could a creature with such a terrifying appearance possess such a divine voice?' He speculated, 'Did the mutation process affect his vocal cords? Perhaps his enhanced state also amplified his tone.'

The boy appeared equally stunned by his voice. He tried speaking again, testing it with different words. Every syllable flowed like a song, even as his monstrous reflection stared back at him.

"What happened to my voice? Why does it sound so different? Help me! I don't know what's happening to me!" he cried, his voice beautiful yet laced with desperation.

Dr. Stylish dismissed the child's concerns with a grin. "Nothing is wrong, my dear boy. You were suffering from a life-threatening disease. If not for me, you wouldn't be here now. Instead of worrying, you should be grateful. I saved your life, after all."

He gestured dramatically to himself, his expression brimming with vanity. "And look at you now! You're not only alive, but far more stylish and cool, just like me! I promise, after a few simple tests and a little time, you'll recover completely."

While the boy appeared nervous, his demeanor concealed something.

Leo, as he remembered himself, maintained his act of a frightened child, deliberately displaying naivety while his thoughts churned with plans.

'Cure my disease? My ass, you mothe*rf*ker.' Leo shouted in his mind.

He recalled the torment he'd endured, the searing pain, the experiments, the blood.

His earliest memory of the facility was waking in agony, thrashing against his restraints, begging for help.

But the man in the lab coat had only observed him with cold indifference. This isn't a savior. He's my captor.

Leo's strategy was clear. Play the part of a scared child to lower Dr. Stylish's guard.

Any sign of defiance could provoke harsher treatment or worse. I need information, Leo thought. Acting clueless and scared is the only way.

When Dr. Stylish began asking questions, Leo answered hesitantly, his voice trembling.

The doctor, satisfied with the data he was collecting, scribbled notes onto his clipboard.

Finally, Leo took a chance. "Where are my mother and father? I want to go home... I want to see them!" His words were filled with feigned fear and confusion.

Dr. Stylish's smile faltered. He adjusted his glasses and replied bluntly, "The people in the slums have been executed by the imperial army. Their heads were displayed in the square as a warning."

The boy froze, his aquamarine eyes dimming.

Dr. Stylish misread the boy's silence as emotional collapse. "Hmm, seems the poor thing broke after hearing the news," he muttered indifferently. "Not that it matters. He'll serve his purpose soon enough."

With another press of a button, sedatives flooded the tank.

Leo's vision blurred, and his body grew heavy. Unconsciousness crept over him as he fell back in deep slumber.