*Prologue* In the small town of Derma, the moon shone high in the sky, illuminating the crackling electrified fence surrounding a rusty warehouse. The parking lot, worn from years of neglect, was dotted with towering weeds. A silence enveloped the area, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the overgrown brush or the sound of insects buzzing around the old, dried trees with their brittle yellow leaves. Some townspeople steered clear of the abandoned warehouse, claiming it was haunted. Yet, the more compelling reason for their avoidance was the rusty sign at the entrance, its faded letters warning, "WARNING! GOVERNMENT PROPERTY! DO NOT TRESPASS."

  As the clock ticked to one minute past midnight, a sleek black SUV glided along the quiet road, its headlights extinguished and windows so dark that the occupants were completely hidden from view. The vehicle moved slowly and deliberately before slowly stopping just outside the warehouse’s crackling electrified fence. With a soft "Beep!" the electric gate opened, echoing through the stillness of the night. The SUV turned smoothly, its engine humming softly as it pulled into the old, abandoned parking lot. The tires emitted a soft "Cshhhhh Cshhhhh" sound as they crushed the towering weeds beneath them.

  The ancient garage door began to inch open, its creaking suggesting it hadn’t been opened in decades. The car slowly drove toward the gaping entrance, and as it pulled into the garage, the engine’s low rumble broke the heavy silence. Suddenly, with a loud SLAM!" the rusty door slammed shut, plunging the interior into complete darkness. The SUV door opened with a soft click, and a man stepped out, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light.

  Then came a “Click,” and a dim glow flooded the garage, revealing a man standing next to the car with his arms folded across his chest. He wore a black suit with matching pants, warm brown hair, and electric blue eyes. The suit had several bulges, as if he were concealing something inside it. He gently closed the car door to avoid any noise and stepped into a room inside the warehouse.

  To most, the warehouse’s interior would appear strange. While the outside looked old, abandoned, and rusty, the inside was bright and clean, as if it had been meticulously maintained. The entire room was white, blinding to the eye as the warehouse lights reflected off its surfaces. The oddity of the space was further heightened by the tubes arranged in neat rows along the walls. While the top and bottom of the tubes were lined with machinery, the insides were empty.

  As the man in the black suit moved quickly past these tubes, he seemed rushed, not bothering to glance at them as if he had seen them countless times before. He continued past the rows of tubes and finally stopped at a grey metal door without a doorknob.

  He performed a complicated knock on the door, a series of taps that, after a loud “Creeaakk,” caused the door to slowly open. “Welcome, Mr. Humsem,” a voice from within spoke softly.

  Mr. Humsem looked worried as a man stepped out from behind the door. This man had short black hair and brown eyes and wore a white lab coat that was stained red and appeared rumpled as if hastily thrown on.

  “Hello, Neil,” Mr. Humsem whispered urgently. “What happened? I heard that I was needed urgently, so I rushed here immediately. I was nearby in my car.”

  “You shouldn’t have entered this way,” Neil replied calmly.

  “You should have used the underground tunnel; the outside entrance is too risky. You might get seen. C’mon, let’s get to the place where it happened.” Neil walked briskly past the door into the next room, and Mr. Humsem quickly followed.”

  Neil and Mr. Humsem walked quickly through the next room full of shiny equipment and stretchers. It looked just like a hospital... except that as well as hospital equipment, there was also an arrangement of weapons. As Neil and Mr. Humsen walked towards the final room, you could see red stains on the stretcher bedsheets.

  Inside the final room were tubes just like the ones in the first room, but inside the tubes were humans in varying stages of development. But instead of looking like normal humans, these humans had overgrown muscles, and “Why was I needed urgently?” Mr. Humsem asked. “Well, you’ll see,” Neil replied. They finally stopped at a tube with shattered glass and liquid oozing. Many of the machinery around it was beeping with red lights, and most of it was destroyed. Right next to it was a metal table with lab equipment on it.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Neil remained composed, his face unreadable, a contrast to the storm building inside Mr. Humsem. He didn’t flinch, not even when Mr. Humsem’s face started turning slightly red. Instead, Neil took a deep breath as if carefully considering each word before speaking.

  "Mr. Humsem," he began, his tone cool and deliberate, "you hired us to create superhumans, and we created one. Unfortunately, the creation you requested—someone with an IQ over 160, superhuman strength, and near invincibility—was... more than we anticipated. And it was smart enough to escape."

  Mr. Humsem’s face twisted with rage. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening as his lips trembled with fury. “WELL THEN, MAKE A NEW ONE!” he roared, his voice booming in the lab, the sound echoing off the cold steel walls. Spit flew from his mouth as he gestured wildly, his face now a shade of crimson. “THE GOVERNMENT HAS

  ALREADY PAID TOP DOLLAR FOR THE FACILITY, AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT YOUR BEST TEST SUBJECT ESCAPED??? THE GOVERNMENT IS TIRED OF WAITING! WE ARE LOSING OUR WAR WITH PALEGY, AND WE NEED THAT SUPERHUMAN!” YOU BETTER GET THAT SUBJECT BACK, OR I’LL SHUT DOWN THE ENTIRE FACILITY, AND I’LL FIRE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!”

  Neil’s calm, steady demeanor never faltered. His eyes flickered to the glass window of the observation room. Slowly, he raised a hand, pressing it against the glass as if trying to center himself. His voice rose but with a sharpness that cut through Mr. Humsem’s shouting. “Listen, Mr. Humsem," Neil said, his tone quickening now, frustration starting to bleed into his words. "We need that test subject back to move forward with our work. He was the only one who succeeded. The others…” He motioned toward the bodies displayed in the adjacent room. “Well, they didn’t do as well."

  Mr. Humsem followed Neil’s hand, his eyes scanning the room with growing horror. Behind the glass, rows of clones lay motionless on sterile tables, their bodies lifeless and contorted. Some were malformed, their muscles grotesquely oversized, their features twisted into a permanent grimace of agony. In one corner, a particularly monstrous figure caught his attention: a behemoth of a man whose muscles seemed to stretch the very fabric of his skin, making his entire frame look as if it could tear itself apart at any moment.

  Neil’s voice softened as he spoke again, his words almost a whisper as if hoping the quiet would somehow temper the chaos in the room. “That one,” he said, nodding toward the hulking figure, "we had to put down. He went... out of control. We tried to stabilize him, but it was like he was driven by pure rage.

  He kept attacking the staff, trying to kill everyone." Neil’s tone dropped even further, a rare tremor of regret slipping into his voice. “We had no choice. He was a danger to the entire facility. The others? Well… They were failures. They had already been dead the moment we took them out of the tube. The one we had to put down was the only other one who had enough potential.”

  The silence that followed was thick with tension. Mr. Humsem’s face was now the color of an overripe tomato, his veins bulging in his neck as he fought to contain his fury. His eyes locked onto Neil’s with a burning intensity, and for a moment, it seemed like the entire room was holding its breath. “So this is your answer?” Mr. Humsem hissed through clenched teeth. "That you created something that couldn’t be controlled? And now you’re telling me to just… accept it?"

  Neil sighed deeply “I know how much the government is relying on this experiment and that the war against Palegy might fail without it… but… Doesn’t it feel wrong to do these things to… Humans?

  Mr. Humsem met his sad glance with an angry stare. “These aren’t humans. They're just… just- just not real.” As he rushed the last words out, he seemed to calm down a little.

  Neil met his gaze, his voice still steady but edged with the kind of weariness that only comes from dealing with someone like Mr. Humsem. “You don’t understand. We pushed the boundaries of what’s possible. We gave you a glimpse of the future, and yes, it got out of hand. But the subject we created—he was our success. Without him, there’s no future, no progress. He’s the key to everything we’ve been working for.”

  For a long moment, Mr. Humsem said nothing, but slowly, he took a step toward Neil, his voice now quieter but no less menacing. “You will find him,” he said, each word like a threat hanging in the air. “Or I will make sure that you and your entire facility become another failed experiment. The government is DESPERATE for this superhuman. If you fail, I fail. And the entire country of Dafis is doomed."

  Neil nodded slowly, his face grim but resolute. "We’ll find him. But if you want results, you’ll have to let us work. And we need time."

  For a moment, it seemed like Mr. Humsem might lash out again, but then he stopped, his gaze shifting toward the rows of dead clones, his eyes briefly flicking to the discarded body of the failed creation in the corner. Finally, he turned on his heel, his voice a low growl as he stalked away.

  "You better. Because if you don’t, there will be no one left to save you."

  Neil watched him go, his shoulders sagging slightly in the silence that followed. He turned back to the glass, staring at the bodies of the failed experiments, each one a reminder of the risks they had taken. The success, though… That was still out there. Somewhere. And he needed to find it.