"Flashbacks"

A room was shrouded in a solemn aura, with a single light bulb flickering ominously and casting distorted shadows along the walls. The metallic scent of blood hung heavily in the air, suffocating and overwhelming.

A figure draped in a white cloak stood motionless at the far end of the room, his back turned to the sole occupant of the room. The dim lighting made it impossible to discern any of his features, except for the eerie red stains that were splattered across the cloak.

The figure spoke in hushed tones, his voice barely audible over the incessant hum of machinery that filled the space.

At the center of the room lay a motionless boy, his hair as white as snow, and his skin was a sickly shade of pale. Intricate machinery bound him, his chest rising and falling in a slow, shallow rhythm. The machines whirred and clicked ceaselessly, their sounds the only ones that permeated the space.

On the other side, the doctor's eyes gleamed as he reviewed the latest test results. The breakthrough they had been working towards was finally within reach.

Turning to the shadowy figure in the observation chamber, the doctor spoke, "049 shows promise. Only 057 has shown similar compatibility thus far. Our breakthrough is within reach."

Whatever response he received was inaudible, but the doctor's sly smile suggested that it was exactly what he had been hoping for. Without a moment's hesitation, he made his way over to the motionless boy in the center of the room.

Despite the surgical mask concealing the majority of his features, the disfiguring scar slanting across his left eye remained visible. A nameplate on his chest has his name engraved on it.

The doctor retrieved a syringe from his black bag. Its contents glowed mysteriously as he approached the frail boy. With a steady hand, he inserted the needle into the boy's arm, a sense of satisfaction evident in his expression.

"I will make you my masterpiece, 049," he whispered, his voice filled with sinister pride.

As the doctor activated a device, the mechanical contraption whirred to life, and a brilliant light engulfed the chamber, casting the surrounding shadows into sharper contrast. The boy's consciousness rapidly ebbed away, lost amidst a sea of malevolent machinery, and the doctor's twisted obsession drove him deeper into the realm of the unknown.

**********

Theo's eyes flickered open, and he was immediately hit by a wave of disorientation and dizziness. The acrid stench of sweat emanated from his clothes, and a sharp headache pounded against his skull. Despite the discomfort, he shook it off and focused on the vivid memory that had surfaced in his mind.

The eerie place, infused with the scent of blood, and the frail white-haired boy strapped to the mysterious machine; those images lingered in his mind. Questions swirled through his head, and he couldn't shake them off. Who was that boy? What was that place?

"Dr. Collins?" That was the name on the chest plate of the figure who loomed over the boy.

"I should look him up on the internet," he thought, as he retrieved his phone and typed in the name. Page after page of search results appeared, but none of them matched his criteria. Frustration bubbled up inside him as he scanned the screen.

But then, one name caught his attention like a beacon in the dark. Adam Collins. The scar on Adam's left eye matched the man in his vision, but instead of being a doctor, he was a failed businessman who had taken his life years ago.

Theo's heart sank as disappointment crept in like a slow poison while he scrolled through the search results. It looked like the lead he had been pursuing was a dead end. Just as he was about to give up, a sudden thought struck him.

"What if it's a pseudonym?" he thought. Perhaps Dr. Collins was using a false identity, implying that he was hiding from someone or something. But it seemed like this mystery would remain unsolved for now.

The sun had already set, and Theo realized that he had skipped lunch when his stomach grumbled in protest. He made his way to the dining room, craving a meal that could satisfy the hunger pangs gnawing at his insides. As he entered the room, he spotted Neil seated at the table, his eyes fixed on a book. Neil had just returned from teaching martial arts at his dojo, and his long hair was tied back in a ponytail.

"How was your day?" he asked. But Theo's mind was lost in a sea of thoughts, and he barely registered his words. Neil repeated the question, and when Theo still didn't respond, he came over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, his brown eyes locked onto Theo's.

"Theo, are you all right?"

Theo realized he had been zoning out and that the day's events had affected him more than he thought.

Nevertheless, he tried to brush off Neil's concerns and reassured him. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just thinking about the graduation ceremony tomorrow."

However, Neil wasn't fooled. He raised an eyebrow, silently conveying that he knew something was up and he wanted to help. He was about to say something when Laura interrupted, "Enough talk for now, both of you. Eat your dinner first."

They obediently focused on their food, but the tension between Neil and him was palpable. He was constantly looking at Theo as if saying, 'You and I need to talk.'

After dinner, Theo didn't leave and remained seated.

"Theo, take this." Neil handed him an envelope.

"What is this?" Theo asked, confused.

"Your military enlistment letter," he paused, "It's starting in a week."