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"You are an instrument. A tool. Tools do not have premonitions. Tools do not have regrets."— The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch
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0629 has been empty. For as long as it can remember, there has been a hole where its heart supposedly beat. And no matter how much it pressed its hand against its chest after training, laying on its perfectly made cot, dimmed yellow hair splayed onto the near-nonexistent pillow, surrounded by the synced, shallow breathing of the other Subjects, waiting for the telltale thump-thump of its supposed heart, fingers brushing over the rough cloth upon its ribs, waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more.
It never came.
How odd, its body being so similar to that of a corpse.
The body crumpled to the ground, blood seeping from her skull, dull brown eyes unseeing towards the cloudy sky. 629 crouched next to the body, staring at the tangled blonde curls, at the scuffed knees, at the threadbare 'All Might!' T-shirt, at the twisted expression on her face.
How interesting. 0629 poked at the body's torso. It was cold.
A drop of moisture landed square on its hood, a torrent of rain rushing after it as 0629 scrambled away. It had forgotten to stuff its knife away. It hadn't disposed of the body accordingly, nor had it spent the allocated time to complete the assignment, instead staying long after the body had cooled.
Minus 74 points.
0629 would be getting punished.
0629's handler had decided to lead it to an unfamiliar area in the Advanced Subjects territory, resembling the Rudimentary Subject's training room, but with so much more space in the air and an unfamiliar figure circling around the barren hall, flitting around like a bird of prey.
Was this for a Correction?
0629's handler interrupted its dazed thoughts, pressing a button on her bracelet as she stared at it with a pinched expression, her green eyes alight with something akin to annoyance, or was it impatience? 0629 could never tell with her. She was much too superior to even begin to attempt to comprehend her emotions. "0629. Pay attention." 0629 nodded blankly, its head still buzzing with left-over electricity from the shock, " This is Subject #1228. It will be in charge of your integration training for now."
0629 merely nodded again in response, cataloging 1228 and searching for its possible weaknesses.
1228 had auburn hair, a mix between messy and styled, and irises of dull amber, black streaks adorning the area surrounding its eyes, which were almost predatory in a sense, 0629 thought as 1228 suddenly twisted towards the pair's vicinity. Surprisingly, what stood out the most to 0629 were its vermillion wings, shining under the sterile lights of the hall, which seemed to make way for the figure as its wings spread, streaking through the air without a sound straight towards the direction of 0629, landing silently, feet slightly thumping against the floor, causing its handler's frown to deepen. A stray feather flew from its wings, adorning the Subject in a way almost ethereal, resembling something almost like an... "Angel" 0629 murmured, its electric eyes wide with childlike wonder as it stared up at the otherworldly figure staring back at it, eyeing 0629 with disinterest.
It had just met an angel.
0629 was perched on the sterile bench, its arm stuck out like all the other Rudimentary Subjects as it waited for the agent to inject the desensitization serum into its blood, deciding to stare at the others, whose eyes were as corpselike as its own.
It wondered if the angel would like to commence the integration training soon. It would be nice. Even if the Subject had been given a bracelet similar to the handler's.
Maybe it'll ask 0701 if it knows about the angel.
Maybe.
"1228? That freak of nature? How the hell did a Rudimentary Subject like you get in contact with that monster?! You idiot!" 0701 hissed, his eyes wide with dulled panic, a few other Subjects spared the pair an uncharacteristically curious glance before turning back to their supplements, which 0629 was about to do until 0701's spindly fingers clutched its shoulders, gripping tightly onto it. the way he dug his hands into 0629's arms was bound to leave bruises, 0629 noted as 0701 shook 0629 with intensifying vigor, causing 0629's head to loll as he whisper-screamed on and on about the danger of 1228.
1228, a monster? How odd.
It was more like something that would bring that thing the agents had called 'justice' to the world, blessing the Subjects with its otherworldly presence as the Subjects heads flew off, splattering its pristine white robes.
Oh. Maybe an Angel of Death wouldn't be too far off the mark?
0629 did not like the colour green, for reasons it did not understand. So maybe that was why after the target had been eliminated, it had tightened its grip on the blade before swinging it directly into the eyes. Over and over and over until it was no more than bloody mush.
The body had been completely unharmed otherwise.
How odd.
Maybe the angel knew why? Or maybe 0701 knew. Yes, 0701 seemed to know everything.
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HPSC SECURE DATABASE | CORRECTION DIVISION
CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT | LEVEL 20 REQUIRED FOR CLEARANCE
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HPSC HANDLER LOG ENTRY # ████ : SUBJECT #0701 [ ███████ ]
Subject #0701 [ ████████ ] has been too volatile for successful usage, place Corrections (Read Protocol #71 of Restraining Corrections required for [ ██████ ██████ ] Quirks. Keep away from Subject #0629 when Corrected.
TIMESTAMP: 20XX-8-29 // 01:10:54 JST
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"Underlying threads of hope have been woven into the bloodied blank slate that are the souls of children who have seen too much"— Unknown