The child was forced to walk alongside the scientist beneath the towering trees of Ishikawa's forest. There was no carriage or bicycle, nor were there any chains binding him—as if the scientist knew the boy lacked the mind or energy to run. Above them, a glowing moon hung centered in a pitch-black night, casting long shadows across the snow.
Barefoot and stripped of clothing except for a pair of ragged pants, the cold cut straight to his bones.
Too... cold... it hurts my... lungs... why...
His breaths came in shallow, jagged gasps. The scientist's face remained a featureless blur to the boy's failing sight, completely unrecognizable.
Finally, a facility emerged among the woods. Soft December snowflakes drifted through the quiet air, settling on the roof of the laboratory. The scientist gestured for him to enter, though the child had no real choice. The moment he stepped inside, the sharp, chemical stench of the laboratory hit his nose like a physical blow.
Through a glass partition in the main hallway, he stared at an experiment room filled with strange tools and cold steel blades. The scientist slipped into an adjacent room, leaving the boy standing alone in the corridor.
"Are you okay?"
The sudden voice made the child jump. He spun around to find a girl standing right beside him, looking up at him with bright, curious eyes.
To a boy who had known only cold stone, blood, and swinging blades, she didn't look like a person at all—she looked like an angel, dropped straight into the middle of his living nightmare.
"Hi! Oh... uh... did I scare you? I didn't mean to," she said with a touch of warmth in her voice. "You just looked a bit lost, so I came to help you. You know... help?"
The boy stared at her, completely frozen. He had never seen a girl before. Human faces had always meant danger, but her soft features and gentle presence felt almost supernatural against the bleak facility.
"Hey, why are you so shocked?" She chuckled, leaning in close to size him up, satisfied he wasn't a threat. "And don't be so quiet—did the monster eat your vocal cords?"
She took a playful step forward, giving him a bright smile.
"So, I'm Liora. But you can call me Liona if you want—I'm a lion after all. Rawr!"
She teased the boy, who was barely holding himself upright.
"What's your name?" she asked, bouncing on her toes with visible excitement.
"Uhh... I don't... have a... name..." he choked out, his eyes darting between her face and her posture, terrified this angelic vision was just another cruel trick.
Liora giggled at his confusion, stepping back to give him some breathing room. "Well, that's a problem! How am I supposed to call you, then? Is it fine if I give you a name instead?"
The weight of her offer hit him so hard he stumbled backward, his dirty, bare feet catching on each other as he fell to the floor. The impact wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it jolted his mind clear.
"I... I don't know... if you... want to... I guess?"
He swallowed hard, trying to push himself up, but Liora extended her hand down to him. To a child who had known only cruelty, her touch felt warm and impossibly gentle.
"Zeka," she said, tilting her head with a smile. "I'll name you Zeka from now on."
His eyes went wide. Lightning seemed to strike through his chest as he stared at her outstretched hand.
Zeka. He repeated the word silently in his head, holding it close, afraid that saying it out loud might make it disappear.
Slowly, he reached up and accepted her hand. She pulled him up in one smooth motion, visibly pleased with her choice.
"Okay, Zeka! We should get to the main room before the scientist hands out weird punishments. He said he's going to tell us a story!"
Liora grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway toward the room where the scientist had vanished. Zeka let himself be dragged along, entirely unprepared for what lay ahead.
Inside, four other children sat on the floor, waiting quietly. The moment Zeka and Liora stepped through the doorway, every pair of eyes turned to lock onto him. A cold shiver ran down Zeka's spine—it was the very first time he had ever been in the presence of other children his age.
As they took their seats on the cold floor, the blur-faced scientist stepped to the center of the room to begin his story.