The steady metallic hum vibrated through the marrow of my bones. It offered a constant rhythmic pulse against the cold steel of the medical table. I lay completely flat. The thick leather cuffs dug into my raw wrists with every shallow breath I took. It was a physical reminder of the foreign substance locked permanently inside my system.
Two doctors stood in the far corners of the blindingly bright room. The harsh fluorescent light reflected off the glass screens of their digital monitors. Their fingers hovered over the keyboards. A slight tremor shook their hands. They kept their eyes fixed strictly on the scrolling data and actively avoided looking at the center of the room. Two armed guards stood planted by the sealed steel door. The matte finish of their Alpha Division armor absorbed the overhead glare. Their gloved fingers rested perfectly still against the trigger guards of their rifles.
A low chuckle echoed across the sterile tiles.
The dry sound lacked the rigid military precision that governed every other breath in the room.
"So the rumors are true."
I turned my head slowly. A man leaned against the far white wall. He lacked the crisp uniform of the soldiers and the clean white coat of the medical staff. He wore a heavy brown leather jacket. The material was scuffed and faded at the elbows. He had rolled the sleeves up to expose his tanned forearms.
A dense map of pale scars covered his skin. A straight white line bisected a jagged burn mark near his wrist. They were the physical markers of a violently chaotic life.
His dark hair held distinct streaks of gray at the temples. He looked around thirty years old. His sharp eyes scanned the room with the quiet focus of an apex predator evaluating the perimeter.
He pushed off the wall. His boots made absolutely no sound as he walked across the pristine floor toward the center of the room.
"I did not think I would get a front row seat," he said. He smiled with a crooked casual expression. "You put on quite a show kid."
I stared at him. The leather restraints chafed my skin. My throat felt like cracked earth. The new strength from the EquiV compound made every muscle in my body feel dense and unnaturally heavy.
"Who are you?" I forced the words out. The harsh raspy whisper scraped against my dry throat.
"Maxim Collins," he said. He stopped two feet from the edge of the metal table. "Max. I heard the loud whispers going around the compound. I read the boring technical reports. But seeing you wake up is much better than reading paperwork."
The two guards by the door shifted their weight. The synthetic fabric of their uniforms rustled. Their hands gripped the black rifles tighter. They did not step forward. They did not issue a command. They seemed entirely uncertain of his actual authority in this facility.
Max leaned over the metal table. He looked down into my eyes.
"You have a lot of spirit," Max said. His voice dropped to a low conversational tone. "Most people strapped to this specific table look completely dead. They look empty. You still look alive."
I kept my mouth shut. My mind processed his strange presence. He possessed a casual arrogance that proved he was not bound by the strict military rules governing the doctors and the guards.
"Why are you here?" I asked. I gathered a small fraction of the dense strength in my chest to speak louder.
"Curiosity," Max said. He shrugged his shoulders. "Opportunity. Entertainment."
He glanced over his shoulder at the two tense guards. "Relax boys. If he wanted me dead I would already be lying on the floor."
The guards glared at him through their visors. They kept their weapons lowered. They clearly despised him but they were not willing to challenge him directly.
Max looked back down at me. The crooked smile returned to his mouth. "You have everyone in this facility completely spooked. Half of them think you are an absolute miracle. The other half think you are a bomb waiting to detonate."
I swallowed. The heavy silence of the room pressed down on my chest. I scanned the shattered memory of the lab where Zack had found me. The image of armored corpses scattered across the concrete floor flashed behind my eyes. The hollow void remained. I still did not know if my hands had snapped their bones.
"What do you think?" I asked.
Max stared directly into my eyes. The casual amusement vanished from his face. A cold calculating intensity took its place. He studied the tension in my jaw and the steady rhythm of my breathing in complete silence.
"Both," he said.
The single word hung heavily in the cold air. It was a blunt honest assessment. He recognized my potential and the immense danger I posed.
Max reached his hand slowly inside his leather jacket.
The two soldiers instantly raised their rifles. The metal barrels leveled directly at his chest.
Max froze. He raised one eyebrow. "Easy. I am not suicidal."
He slowly pulled a dented metal flask from his inside pocket. He twisted the cap off and took a long drink. He sighed quietly and offered the open flask toward my face.
"Water," Max said. "Not poison. I promise."
I blinked in surprise. "They will not let you."
Max grinned broadly. He looked at the nearest armed soldier. "Will you shoot me for giving the kid a drink of water?"
The young soldier kept his jaw completely tight. He stared straight ahead and refused to answer the question.
Max leaned down. He tilted the metal flask just enough to let a thin steady stream of water spill into my mouth. The liquid was lukewarm and tasted faintly of old iron. It was the best thing I had ever tasted. It soothed the raw burning sensation in my throat perfectly. I swallowed it greedily.
Max pulled the flask back and screwed the cap on tightly. He patted my chest twice.
"See?" Max said. "Not everything in this building wants to kill you."
For the first time since I woke up in the lab someone had spoken directly to me. They had not spoken about me like a broken machine or a scientific specimen.
"Why are you doing this?" I narrowed my eyes.
Max laughed quietly. He shook his head. "I am not a nice guy kid. I just hate watching people get treated like tools. It reminds me of things I would rather forget."
A dark shadow crossed his face. For a single second his sharp eyes revealed a deep old pain. It was a brief flash of pure vulnerability. Then the confident smirk returned to his mouth and masked it completely.
"Besides," Max added. "If you are half as dangerous as the doctors claim it is a smart idea to have you owe me a favor."
We sat in complete silence for a full minute. The medical monitors beeped their steady rhythm. The low hum of the EquiV substance vibrated gently in my blood matching the slow beat of my heart.
Max stood up straight. He rolled his shoulders. The playful energy vanished from his posture.
"So tell me Ashen," Max said quietly. "Do you actually believe you are just an innocent victim in all this or is that just a convenient blank slate your mind created to protect you?"
The cold heavy hum in my veins spiked sharply. The dense muscles in my arms locked tight against the leather restraints. The steel table groaned.
"What?" I stammered. My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
Max tapped the side of his head with two fingers. "Do not look so shocked. You mumble constantly in your sleep. You talked about glass shattering. You mumbled about fighting a mirror." He leaned closer until his face was only inches from mine. "But let us be completely honest right now. Do you even know how many bodies they pulled out of that destroyed lab with you?"
The fragmented memories flooded my mind instantly. The deafening sound of gunfire ringing in my ears. The cold feeling came back. My bare hands slick with warm blood.
The details were terrifyingly clear. I could remember the exact smell of the burnt gunpowder hanging in the air. I could remember the exact weight of the rifle I had tried to grab from Zack.
But beneath the clarity a dark hollow void remained. I still did not know who I was before the lab.
The cold sensation spread from the base of my neck. It crawled up my skull to freeze the sweat on my skin. It worked to erase the rising panic. It attempted to silence the confusing guilt and return my mind to a state of absolute clarity.
I gripped the sides of the metal table tightly to fight the sensation back.
I could not answer him. I could not form a single word.
Max watched my face closely. His sharp eyes tracked the rapid rise and fall of my chest. He watched the violent internal struggle playing out behind my eyes. His expression softened into something resembling actual sympathy.
"That is exactly what I thought," Max said.
He tapped the metal table twice. "It does not matter kid. Innocent or not if those blank spaces keep you sane you hold onto them tightly. Do not let these people force you to be a monster before you are ready."
"Why?" I whispered. My voice shook badly.
"Because hope is a very powerful thing," Max said. "I have seen dead men crawl out of the dirt chasing it. Just do not mistake it for the actual truth."
The heavy steel door slid open with a loud pneumatic hiss.
The two guards immediately snapped to strict attention. Their boots clicked against the tiles.
Zack walked into the room. His dark tactical armor absorbed the harsh white light. His posture was perfectly rigid. His gray eyes swept the room and instantly locked onto Max.
"Collins," Zack said. His voice was completely flat. It carried absolutely no emotion. "You are not authorized to be inside this ward."
Max raised both of his hands in mock surrender. His confident smile never wavered. "Relax Zack. I am just checking on the new golden project. I did not touch a single machine. I only gave him a sip of water. Do not write a report about me."
Zack tightened his jaw. He did not reply. He simply rested his right hand directly on the grip of his holstered pistol. It was a silent but absolute threat.
Max smiled wider. He was completely unfazed by the weapon.
"I will take that as my cue to leave," Max said. He stepped back from the medical table and tucked the dented metal flask deep into his leather jacket. He looked down at me one last time.
"Do not go dying on me Ashen," Max said. "You are way too interesting for that."
Max offered a lazy salute. He turned around and strolled casually out the open door.
The heavy tension he left behind hung in the air. Zack watched the empty doorway for a long moment before turning his cold gray eyes back to me.
I lay flat on the table and stared up at the bright ceiling panels. My heart raced against my ribs. My mind spun violently through the fragmented memories.
Maxim Collins.
I did not know if he was a friend or an enemy. His true intentions remained completely hidden behind his casual charm and his cynical jokes.
But as the steady hum of the medical machines pressed down on me from all sides I realized something important. For the first time since this terrible nightmare began, I felt slightly less like a scientific object.
I felt more like a person.