Chapter Text
Wemmbu decided approximately three seconds after seeing the equipment that he hated everyone in the room.
The machine was enormous.
It had cables.
It had screens.
It had several things that looked suspiciously like needles.
And one researcher was standing beside it with the expression of someone who had absolutely no intention of explaining what any of them did.
Wemmbu pointed at the machine.
"No."
The researcher didn't react.
"Wemmbu."
"No."
"We need to begin."
"No."
"You've already been informed—"
"I don't care."
The researcher paused.
Wemmbu folded his arms.
"Actually, wait."
He pointed toward the door.
"I have a better idea."
Nobody moved.
"You let me out."
Silence.
"I leave."
More silence.
"And then you can all continue doing whatever creepy science thing you do down here."
The researcher sighed.
"No."
"Wow."
Wemmbu nodded.
"Great discussion."
He took a step backward.
The researchers noticed immediately.
One moved toward the door.
Another moved toward him.
Wemmbu's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, absolutely not."
He turned.
He didn't get far.
Someone caught his arm.
Wemmbu twisted violently.
"Get off!"
The researcher grabbed for his other arm.
Wemmbu shoved them away.
"I said get OFF!"
He kicked at the nearest person, forcing them back.
For half a second, there was an opening.
Wemmbu lunged for the door.
It didn't open.
Of course it didn't.
He hit the wall beside it.
"OPEN!"
Nothing.
Behind him, footsteps.
Wemmbu spun around.
"Don't."
They kept coming.
"I mean it."
Someone reached for him.
Wemmbu ducked.
Another hand caught his shoulder.
He jerked away hard enough to stumble.
"Stop touching me!"
The room erupted into movement.
Wemmbu fought every step of the way.
He wasn't particularly interested in making this easy for them.
He elbowed one researcher away.
Kicked another.
Tried to grab anything he could use.
There was nothing.
No weapon.
No loose equipment.
Nothing sharp.
Nothing heavy.
Nothing.
The room had been designed for this.
That realization made his stomach drop.
They had prepared for someone like him.
Eventually, sheer numbers won.
Wemmbu was forced down onto the examination table.
He immediately started struggling again.
"No!"
"Wemmbu, stop."
"No!"
"You're going to hurt yourself."
"Then let me go!"
His wrists were secured.
Then his ankles.
Wemmbu pulled against the restraints.
Nothing.
He glared at the researcher standing above him.
"You people are insane."
The researcher checked the equipment.
"Hold still."
"No."
"Wemmbu."
"No."
"Please cooperate."
"No."
A pause.
"...You're aware this will happen regardless?"
Wemmbu stared at them.
"Yes."
"Then why resist?"
He smiled bitterly.
"Because I can."
The researcher said nothing.
Wemmbu continued struggling.
Even when it became obvious that he wasn't getting free.
Even when his strength began to disappear.
Even when his breathing became uneven.
He kept fighting.
He kept talking.
He kept making every second miserable for everyone involved.
"That machine is ugly."
No response.
"Your gloves are ugly too."
Nothing.
"Your entire facility is ugly."
One researcher glanced at another.
Wemmbu grinned.
"There."
"What?"
"You almost smiled."
"I did not."
"You did."
"No."
"You did."
The researcher adjusted a monitor.
"You're remarkably irritating."
"Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"I accepted it as one."
The examination began.
The room became a blur of lights, equipment, questions, and voices.
Wemmbu refused to cooperate whenever he could.
When they asked him to hold still, he moved.
When they asked him to relax, he tensed.
When they asked him questions, he answered with nonsense.
When they demanded information, he gave them sarcasm.
When they told him something was necessary, he asked why.
When they told him they didn't know, he laughed.
And when they tried to make him afraid—
he got angry instead.
"What are you looking for?"
No answer.
"What do you think I am?"
Silence.
"An Ender Dragon?"
Nothing.
"A demon?"
Nothing.
"Some kind of hybrid?"
The researcher stared at the monitor.
Wemmbu watched them.
"That's it, isn't it?"
"What?"
"You don't know."
The researcher didn't respond.
Wemmbu smiled.
"You have no idea what I am."
That finally earned him a reaction.
Tiny.
But real.
Wemmbu saw it.
"Wow."
He laughed.
"That's actually hilarious."
The researcher turned toward the equipment.
"Begin the next stage."
Wemmbu's smile vanished.
"Wait."
Nobody answered.
"Wait."
The equipment activated.
Wemmbu's entire body tensed.
He pulled against the restraints again.
"Stop."
The researchers continued.
"Stop!"
His voice cracked.
Nobody stopped.
The room blurred.
There were voices.
Machines.
Questions.
The same questions again and again.
What could he do?
How long had he been able to do it?
Where had his abilities come from?
Had anyone taught him?
Had anyone else shown similar traits?
Wemmbu answered some.
Refused others.
Made up answers whenever he could.
Eventually, the researchers stopped asking.
They simply recorded.
That was worse.
At some point, the examination moved beyond what Wemmbu could keep track of.
The room became disconnected pieces.
A bright light.
A monitor.
Someone telling him to remain still.
His own voice telling them to go away.
A sharp burst of pain.
Then darkness.
When Wemmbu opened his eyes again, he wasn't on the examination table.
He was back in his room.
The lights were dim.
The machine beside the bed was still running.
Beep.
Pause.
Beep.
Pause.
Wemmbu stared at the ceiling.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he tried.
His body protested immediately.
He stopped.
"...Ow."
His voice was barely audible.
He swallowed.
His mouth was dry.
He lifted one hand.
It trembled.
Wemmbu stared at it.
Then lowered it.
Something felt different.
Wrong.
He didn't know what.
He touched the side of his head.
His fingers stopped.
There was an empty space where there shouldn't have been one.
Wemmbu froze.
His breathing stopped for a second.
"No."
He touched it again.
The realization came slowly.
Then all at once.
"No."
His hand dropped.
He stared at the wall.
They had taken something.
Something that belonged to him.
Something they had no right to touch.
His eyes burned.
Wemmbu clenched his fists.
"Kill."
The name came out quietly.
He looked toward the camera.
"I am going to kill you."
The camera remained motionless.
Wemmbu stared directly into it.
"Even if it is the last thing I do."
Several floors above him, MinuteTech was standing in front of a terminal.
He had been trying to fix the same system for twenty minutes.
It wasn't broken.
That was the problem.
Everything said it was working.
The machine said it was working.
The diagnostics said it was working.
The system logs said it was working.
Minute knew it wasn't.
He hated computers that lied.
He leaned closer.
A file appeared on the screen.
ACQUISITION STATUS: ACTIVE
Minute frowned.
He hadn't opened that.
He clicked away.
The file returned.
He tried again.
It returned.
Minute sighed.
"Fine."
He opened it.
Most of the information was blocked.
He could see the classification.
UNKNOWN.
He could see the status.
CONTAINED.
And beneath that—
SAMPLE ACQUISITION COMPLETE.
Minute stared at the words.
Something about them bothered him.
He didn't know why.
He closed the file.
Then opened it again.
The same information.
He frowned.
"Who are you?"
The screen gave him no answer.
He shut it down.
For the first time since he had started working there, Minute left a terminal without fixing the problem.
In the forest, Egg was still staring at the metal plate.
Parrot had gone quiet.
Flame was pacing.
Nobody had said it aloud yet.
They didn't need to.
The missing people.
The symbol.
The equipment.
The disappearances.
The organization.
Egg looked at the plate.
Then at the others.
"We find where this came from."
Parrot nodded.
"And then?"
Egg's answer was immediate.
"We get Wemmbu back."
Flame stopped pacing.
"And if they're expecting us?"
Egg looked toward the trees.
"Then they'll regret it."
None of them noticed the small indicator light on the underside of the metal plate.
It blinked once.
Then twice.
Then.
The light on the underside of the metal plate went dark.
Nobody noticed.
Not Egg.
Not Flame.
Not Parrot.
And definitely not Wifies, who was invited by Parrot to help, and who was still crouched in the dirt with a collection of tools spread around him.
He held the plate between two fingers.
"Okay."
Egg looked at him.
"Okay, what?"
"I know what the numbers are."
Flame stopped pacing.
Parrot stepped closer.
"What?"
Wifies turned the plate around.
"They aren't coordinates."
Egg frowned.
"Then what are they?"
"A serial."
"Serial for what?"
Wifies hesitated.
"Equipment."
Parrot's expression tightened.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning this plate was manufactured as part of a batch."
Egg stared at him.
"Can you find the batch?"
"Maybe."
"Can you find the manufacturer?"
"Maybe."
"Can you find where it was made?"
"Maybe."
Egg's patience disappeared.
"Wifies."
"I said maybe."
"That's not helpful."
"I know."
Wifies put the plate down.
"The problem is that whoever made this either doesn't want people finding them, or they're using a system I don't recognize."
Parrot looked at the numbers.
"Could you trace the material?"
"Not from this."
"Why?"
"Because it's been altered."
Egg looked confused.
"Altered how?"
"Someone deliberately removed identifying information."
Flame crossed his arms.
"So someone made the plate, then made sure nobody could figure out who made it."
"Yes."
"That's suspicious."
Wifies stared at him.
"Extremely."
Egg picked up the fragment.
"Then we start somewhere else."
Parrot looked at him.
"Where?"
Egg glanced toward the road.
"The villages."
Flame's expression changed.
"What?"
"If people have been disappearing for years, we find someone who remembers."
Parrot nodded slowly.
"That could work."
Wifies stood.
"I'll come with you."
Egg looked at him.
"You don't have to."
"I know."
Wifies packed away his tools.
"But if this technology is as advanced as I think it is, I want to know what we're dealing with."
Flame gave him a suspicious look.
"You sure?"
Wifies shrugged.
"No."
Flame almost smiled.
"Fair."
Egg started walking.
The others followed.
None of them noticed the faintest movement beneath the dirt where the plate had been lying.
Wemmbu hated the room.
He hated the bed.
He hated the machine.
He hated the walls.
He hated the lights.
Most of all, he hated the camera.
He had been staring at it for what felt like an hour.
It stared back.
"You're creepy."
Nothing.
Wemmbu pointed at it.
"I know you're listening."
Nothing.
"I know you're recording."
Nothing.
"I know you're probably watching me right now."
Nothing.
He lowered his hand.
"You're still creepy."
The camera remained perfectly still.
Wemmbu turned away.
His head still felt wrong.
He didn't touch the missing section again.
He didn't need to.
He knew.
They had taken part of his horn.
He didn't know how much.
He didn't know what they had done with it.
He didn't know why.
He knew only that it was gone.
That knowledge sat in his chest like a stone.
Wemmbu climbed onto the bed.
He pulled his knees toward himself.
For several minutes, he said nothing.
Then the speaker crackled.
"Wemmbu."
He immediately looked up.
"What?"
No answer.
"Hello?"
The speaker clicked again.
"Your next examination will occur tomorrow."
Wemmbu stared at it.
"No."
Silence.
"I said no."
"You don't have a choice."
Wemmbu's jaw tightened.
"Then why bother telling me?"
No answer.
He leaned toward the speaker.
"Did you get enough?"
Silence.
"Or do you need more?"
Nothing.
Wemmbu's voice became quieter.
"Because you already took something."
The speaker remained silent.
"You know what you took."
Still nothing.
Wemmbu looked down.
"Give it back."
No response.
His hands tightened around his knees.
"Give it back."
The speaker clicked off.
Wemmbu stared at it.
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then he threw a pillow at it.
The pillow bounced harmlessly off the wall.
"Assholes."
He climbed off the bed.
He picked up the pillow.
Then threw it again.
"Assholes."
He picked it up.
Again.
"Assholes."
The third time, he missed the speaker entirely.
The pillow landed in the corner.
Wemmbu stared at it.
"...That one was intentional."
The camera continued recording.
MinuteTech had begun noticing things.
Not big things.
Small things.
The kind of things that were easy to ignore individually.
A door that normally stayed open was locked.
A researcher who usually talked to him stopped talking when he entered the room.
A folder disappeared from a terminal.
Someone had changed the access permissions on an entire section of the facility.
Minute noticed because the new permissions broke three of his maintenance programs.
He had spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out why.
Eventually, he gave up.
He walked into the break room.
Wifies' usual chair was empty.
Minute grabbed a cup.
He stared at the coffee machine.
The machine stared back through a blinking error light.
"No."
The machine beeped.
"Don't."
Another beep.
Minute pointed at it.
"I fixed you yesterday."
The machine beeped again.
"Don't make me fix you again."
A researcher entered.
Minute looked over.
"Your coffee machine is broken."
"I know."
"Then why haven't you fixed it?"
"Because that's not my department."
Minute stared.
"Whose department is it?"
The researcher left.
Minute looked back at the machine.
"...I hate this place."
He poured himself water instead.
As he walked out, he noticed something on the wall.
A schedule.
Several rooms.
Several appointment times.
Several classifications.
He stopped.
One room was marked differently.
OBSERVATION — RESTRICTED
Minute frowned.
That hadn't been there before.
He leaned closer.
There was another label beneath it.
SUBJECT V-██
He couldn't see the rest.
He glanced around.
Nobody was there.
Minute reached toward the paper.
Stopped.
He shouldn't.
He knew that.
Restricted meant restricted.
He walked away.
After five steps, he stopped again.
Then turned around.
He looked at the schedule.
Something about it bothered him.
He couldn't explain why.
Maybe it was the word subject.
Maybe it was the fact that the room was restricted.
Maybe it was the name he'd seen earlier.
Wem—
Minute shook his head.
No.
It couldn't be.
There were thousands of people with similar names.
Probably.
He walked away again.
This time he didn't turn around.
Wemmbu woke up to footsteps.
He opened his eyes.
The room was dark.
He sat up.
Footsteps.
Not outside the door.
Somewhere beyond it.
Several people.
A cart rolled past.
Wemmbu listened.
Someone spoke.
"Transfer?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Doctor Vale wants him contained."
Wemmbu froze.
Him.
He slid off the bed.
He approached the door.
The voices grew quieter.
He pressed his ear against it.
"...tomorrow."
"Again?"
"Yes."
"That's soon."
"His readings changed."
"So?"
"So Vale wants another examination."
A pause.
Then:
"Do you think he's dangerous?"
Wemmbu smiled despite himself.
Finally.
Someone asking the important questions.
The other person answered.
"I don't know."
"Then why is he here?"
"I don't know."
Wemmbu whispered:
"Excellent."
The footsteps faded.
He stepped away from the door.
His smile disappeared.
They thought he was dangerous.
That could be useful.
Wemmbu looked around the room.
The bed.
The sink.
The monitor.
The camera.
The door.
He needed something.
Anything.
A weakness.
A mistake.
He walked to the sink.
He examined the faucet.
Nothing.
The monitor.
Nothing.
The bed.
He checked underneath.
Nothing.
He looked at the walls.
Nothing.
Then he looked at the floor.
There was a tiny screw near the bed.
Wemmbu crouched.
He picked it up.
He stared at it.
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
He smiled.
"Okay."
He slipped it beneath the mattress.
Not because he knew what he was going to do.
Because having something they didn't know about made him feel slightly less helpless.
Egg's group reached the village just before sunset.
It was small.
Much smaller than Egg expected.
There were perhaps thirty houses.
A few farms.
A stone wall.
A well.
Nothing unusual.
Egg approached the nearest house.
An elderly player opened the door.
Egg raised the metal plate.
"Have you seen this?"
The person's face changed.
Egg noticed immediately.
"Yes."
Parrot stepped forward.
"When?"
The person stared at the symbol.
"Long ago."
"How long?"
"I don't know."
Egg asked:
"Did people disappear?"
The person didn't answer.
That was enough.
Egg lowered the plate.
"How many?"
The person looked toward the village.
"Seven."
Flame's expression hardened.
"Seven?"
"That we know of."
Parrot's voice was quiet.
"When?"
"Over several years."
"All at once?"
"No."
"Who disappeared?"
The person hesitated.
"People nobody would notice."
Egg frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"They were travelers."
"Why?"
"They didn't have families here."
Parrot's expression changed.
"Did anyone search?"
"Of course."
"And?"
"We found nothing."
Egg looked at the symbol again.
"Did anyone see who took them?"
"No."
"Any strange equipment?"
The person shook their head.
"Anything strange at all?"
A pause.
"Sometimes."
Egg waited.
"Lights."
"Where?"
"In the forest."
"How long?"
"Some nights."
Flame looked toward the trees.
"How long ago?"
The person shrugged.
"Years."
Egg felt a cold sensation crawl down his back.
"Did you ever investigate?"
"No."
"Why?"
The person looked at him.
"Because everyone who went too far stopped coming back."
Nobody spoke.
Egg slowly lowered his hand.
"How many?"
The person didn't answer.
Flame did.
"Enough."
The village gave them one more thing.
A location.
Not a facility.
Not a building.
Just an old mining tunnel several kilometers away.
According to the villagers, the lights had sometimes appeared there.
Egg wanted to leave immediately.
Parrot stopped him.
"Tomorrow."
Egg turned.
"Why?"
"It's getting dark."
"We don't know what we're walking into."
"Exactly."
Flame nodded.
"Parrot's right."
Egg looked between them.
He hated that.
But he knew they were right.
"We leave at sunrise."
Wifies nodded.
"I can prepare equipment."
Flame looked at him.
"What equipment?"
"Things."
"That's reassuring."
"I'll make sure you don't die."
"Better."
Egg looked toward the distant forest.
Somewhere beyond it was a place that might have answers.
Or might be another dead end.
Either way, it was the first real lead they'd had.
Wemmbu was awake again.
He had not slept much.
Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered pieces.
The room.
The lights.
The questions.
The machine.
His own voice.
The moment before everything went dark.
He sat against the wall.
His knees were pulled toward his chest.
He stared at the door.
He didn't know how long he'd been there when the lock clicked.
Wemmbu immediately stood.
The door opened.
Two researchers.
No equipment.
Wemmbu relaxed slightly.
Then noticed the restraints in one person's hands.
His expression hardened.
"No."
The researcher spoke calmly.
"You're being moved."
"No."
"You need to come with us."
"No."
"Wemmbu."
"No."
The researcher looked at the other person.
Wemmbu stepped backward.
"I said no."
Nobody answered.
He grabbed the edge of the bed.
Not because it would help.
Because he needed something solid beneath his hand.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Another room."
"Why?"
"Further examination."
"No."
"We're not asking."
"Then stop talking."
The researchers stepped inside.
Wemmbu shoved the bed forward.
It blocked the doorway for half a second.
He ran.
One step.
Two.
A hand caught his arm.
Wemmbu twisted.
"GET OFF!"
He kicked backward.
The grip loosened.
He tore free.
The second researcher reached for him.
Wemmbu ducked.
He almost made it past.
Almost.
Then someone caught the back of his shirt.
Wemmbu spun.
"Let go!"
He grabbed their wrist.
"Let go!"
They didn't.
Wemmbu struggled harder.
The hallway was right there.
He could see it.
Lights.
Doors.
People.
For the first time, he saw how large the facility really was.
The corridor stretched farther than he could see.
Doors lined both sides.
Some had windows.
Some didn't.
Some had numbers.
Some had symbols.
And one—
one had a small rectangular window.
Behind it was a person.
Wemmbu saw them.
Only for a second.
Young.
Tired.
Sitting on a bed.
Their eyes met his.
Then the door slammed shut.
Wemmbu stopped fighting.
Not because he had surrendered.
Because his brain had stopped.
The researcher pulled him forward.
He didn't move.
"Wemmbu."
He stared at the closed door.
"Who was that?"
No answer.
"Who was that?"
"Wemmbu, move."
"Who."
Nothing.
His voice became quieter.
"Who was that?"
The researcher tightened their grip.
"Keep moving."
Wemmbu finally looked at them.
The anger returned.
"What did you do to them?"
No answer.
"What did you do?"
The researcher dragged him down the hallway.
Wemmbu fought again.
Harder.
He shouted.
He demanded answers.
He kicked.
He pulled against their grip.
He tried to look back.
The door was already too far away.
The corridor swallowed it.
And as they took him around the corner, Wemmbu caught one final glimpse of the door number.
He memorized it.
He didn't know why.
He only knew he would remember.
Later that night, Egg woke suddenly.
He didn't know why.
The camp was quiet.
Flame was asleep near the fire.
Parrot was sitting awake.
Wifies was gone.
Egg sat up.
"Where's Wifies?"
Parrot pointed.
Across the clearing, Wifies was standing alone with the metal plate.
He was staring at it.
Egg walked over.
"What happened?"
Wifies didn't answer.
Egg stepped closer.
"Wifies."
"I figured something out."
Egg waited.
Wifies turned the plate over.
"There was a signal."
Egg frowned.
"You said it wasn't transmitting."
"It wasn't."
"Then how—"
"It transmitted once."
"When?"
"While we were talking."
Egg stared at him.
"Where did it go?"
Wifies looked toward the forest.
"I don't know."
Parrot approached.
"Can you trace it?"
"Not anymore."
"Then what's the point?"
Wifies looked down at the plate.
"I don't know."
Egg took it from him.
The metal was cold.
"Could they know we have it?"
Wifies didn't answer.
Egg looked up.
"Wifies."
"...Maybe."
Flame woke behind them.
"What?"
Egg turned.
"We may have a problem."
Flame stood.
"What kind?"
Egg looked toward the forest.
"The kind where I think they know we're looking."
Far away, hidden beneath layers of stone and machinery, a small light blinked on.
A monitor displayed a single line.
EXTERNAL INTERFERENCE DETECTED.
Below it:
SOURCE: UNKNOWN.
And beneath that, another line appeared.
PRIORITY: LOW.
The monitor went dark.
Nobody in the room seemed concerned.
Not yet.