Experiment

Two days passed in a blur. Zack's world narrowed to refining and testing, his focus unshaken despite the monotony. Meanwhile, the mechanical Ants in the community continued their relentless work, their numbers swelling to over fifty. They scurried about, fortifying defenses and constructing the prototype for the Sky Defense System. The Air Fortress's mainframe was also nearing completion, adding another layer of progress to the bustling activity.

In stark contrast, the six captives in the biological lab were spiraling into despair. Despite being provided with luxurious meals—complete with fish, meat, and even milk noodles—their paranoia consumed them. To them, these feasts were nothing more than the last meals of condemned prisoners.

Every bite was accompanied by dread, but they ate anyway. Hunger strikes were met with immediate sedation and forced nutrient injections. Their physical activity was monitored just as rigorously. Each room contained a treadmill, and they were required to jog five kilometers and sprint one kilometer daily. Refusal brought swift punishment in the form of Zack's mechanical spiders, which delivered painful but non-lethal stings to stimulate their muscles.

Zack was meticulous, ensuring their physical health at any cost. On the afternoon of the third day, Zack finally completed the element configuration for the serum. Most elements had near-perfect replacements, but five remained unstable, leaving him with 120 possible arrangements.

Zack leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Five unstable elements. Great. That's 120 different combinations… and I only have six test subjects."

His eyes flicked toward the breeding tanks filled with white mice. "We'll start with the mice." He prepared the first serum with precise movements and retrieved a mouse, securing it in a miniature injection chamber. "Super Serum, test one, beginning now," he announced, pressing the start button.

The chamber lit up as the serum was injected, followed by targeted radiation. Pop!

The mouse exploded. "Experiment failed," Zack muttered, already reaching for the next arrangement.

One by one, the tests continued, each ending in failure. Bang! Pop! BOOM!!!

Hours bled into days. Zack worked tirelessly, refining serums, adjusting variables, and recording results. He no longer swore or complained, his mind wholly absorbed in the grueling process. This was his work, his future. Mistakes weren't an option. After nearly thirty hours of continuous effort, Zack paused, staring at the latest result. "Still unstable," he murmured.

Exhaling deeply, he stood, stretching his stiff limbs. The serum wasn't ready—not yet. But he wouldn't stop until it was. After countless failures, the lab was littered with shattered hopes and shattered mice—quite literally. One after another, the test subjects exploded in horrifying displays of serum instability. Zack, who had spent sleepless nights in the basement, was close to believing his goal of transformation was a lost cause. But then, the 94th experiment proved different.

Beep! Hiss! The injection chamber whirred to life and slowly opened. Out stepped a white mouse, now nearly twice its original size. Its movements were sharp, its eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.

"Squeak!" The mouse's demeanor quickly turned violent. Trapped within a glass enclosure, it rammed the walls with relentless fury. Crack! A jagged line appeared on the bulletproof glass.

Zack raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Strength enhancement confirmed. Aggressive tendencies noted," he muttered while scribbling in his log. His excitement, however, was short-lived. Without hesitation, he pressed a red button.

Zzzap! A laser beam pierced through the mouse's head, dropping it lifeless. "Noted. Let's move on to the 95th experiment." Zack's tone was calm, almost clinical. Fueled by the success of the 94th iteration, he rigorously tested remaining serum variations. By the end of the night, three formulas—94, 101, and 112—were confirmed as successful, at least for the mice.

"Time for human trials," he declared, his gaze shifting toward a small, isolated room nearby. Inside, six captives—once petty criminals, now unwilling participants—cowered in terror. Days of witnessing gruesome experiments had left them paralyzed with fear. The mere thought of being next sent chills down their spines.

The oldest among them, nicknamed Old Dog, was the first to break the silence. "You bastard!" he spat, voice shaking but defiant. "You think I'll let you—" Before he could finish, a faint hiss filled the room. Anesthetic gas poured in, cutting him off mid-sentence. One by one, the six slumped to the floor.

"Bring three of them over," Zack instructed coldly. His mechanical ants dragged three unconscious subjects into crude injection chambers. The machines looked cobbled together—exposed wires dangled dangerously, and the metallic frames bore hasty welds. But the function was the same. "Inject the serum."

Three different variations—94, 101, and 112—were loaded into the machines. With a press of a button, the process began. Bright beams of light engulfed the subjects, the intensity far greater than what was used on the mice. The rays surged through the chambers, seeping out through every gap. Under this pressure, the serums began their work.

"Ahhhhh!" The three captives woke up in agonizing pain, screaming and thrashing against their restraints. Zack ignored their cries, his focus glued to the monitor. "Increase power," he ordered.

The light intensified further, illuminating the basement like a miniature sun. "Subject One: cardiac arrest, brain wave failure, multiple organ collapse…" Ego, Zack's AI assistant, reported mechanically.

"Serum 94 deemed unfit for humans," Zack concluded, shutting down the first chamber without so much as a blink. The subject slumped lifelessly, smoke curling from the edges of the machine.

The other two chambers, however, remained stable. Zack's hope flickered.

"Subject Three: neural damage detected. Brain activity is deteriorating rapidly," Ego warned. A guttural roar erupted from the third chamber, shaking the room. Zack's eyes narrowed. "If I'm not mistaken, the active component in Serum 101 is… the Zeta virus."

His hand instinctively reached for the emergency protocol. "Ego, deploy the MV-02W to this location. Now."

"Understood." In the distance, one of Zack's unmanned war machines powered up, its heavy metallic frame humming as it sprinted toward the lab. Alongside it, five robotic spiders armed with poison darts scuttled into defensive positions, surrounding the still-closed chamber.

Meanwhile, Zack's attention shifted back to the second chamber. "All vitals normal," Ego confirmed.

Zack allowed himself a small smile. "Finally… success." The third chamber continued to rumble ominously, but Zack ignored it for now. The second machine hissed open, revealing a transformed figure. The subject was well-built, his muscles taut like coiled steel, exuding raw power. Before Zack could even savor the moment, the metal restraints binding the man's wrists and ankles snapped with a deafening clang.

"Kill you! Everything you have is mine!" roared the man—none other than Old Dog, who had been injected with Serum 112. Zack's eyes widened in disbelief. The subject who was deemed "normal" had already turned hostile, blinded by his newfound strength. Old Dog's every step cracked the concrete beneath him as he charged at Zack with murderous intent.

"Ego, activate defense mode!" Zack barked.