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With a low hum, the door slid open, revealing a lone figure standing at the threshold.

The surveillance staff turned their heads in unison, their tense expressions softening at the sight."Finally, you're back," one of them exhaled in relief.

"Took you long enough."Their subordinates had gone to retrieve weapons, arming themselves for the inevitable horror 44 would bring. Now, at last, they had returned.

A nervous chuckle rippled through the room. "Brother, you had us shaking in our boots. Thought for sure that was 44 behind the door."

"Yeah, good to see you back in one piece."

But something was wrong. Their subordinate stood eerily still, his hollow eyes sunken deep into his skull.

"You okay?" one of the staff members asked, his smile faltering. "You don't look fine."The man's gaze only darkened further.

His lips parted, voice barely above a whisper.

"He's behind me."

The room stilled. Then, stepping out from the darkness behind him, the "chef" made his appearance.

The others exchanged wary glances. Their colleague's face was painted with unease... and something else. Betrayal.

"Well, at least you both made it back in one piece," one of them said hesitantly.

"Yeah."

"That's good."But their subordinate's eyes twitched.

His breath quickened."You fools," he hissed through clenched teeth. "I mean he's literally behind me!"

His raised voice sent a jolt of confusion through the room."What… what are you talking about?"

"Yeah, man, you're really creeping me out. And where are the guns?"

A new voice answered from behind the chef.

"You mean these?"

The figure stepped forward. Small in stature. Head tilted downward.Him? Him? The surveillance staff blinked, their thoughts tangling.

His androgynous frame and delicate features made it difficult to determine.But that was the least of their concerns.

This was Subject 44.

His hands were tucked behind his back, yet they could see what he carried.AK-47s. TEC-9s. SMGs. Even an LMG.

The color drained from their faces. The very weapons they had planned to use for their survival were now in the hands of the one they feared most.

"Shall I give these to you?" 44 asked, his voice polite, almost thoughtful. "You may find them useful."

The surveillance staff felt their throats tighten. They couldn't decide whether to scream or remain frozen.

"You holed yourselves up here, monitoring my movements, hoping for reinforcements to intercept me," 44 mused, tilting his head slightly. "I thought… if I were to leave without unnecessary bloodshed, I should deal with the surveillance team first."

"We—"

"—Should die?"

44 interjected, his tone as calm as ever.Clang. Thud. Bang.The weapons hit the ground."Make good use of these, would you?"

Their minds spun, struggling to comprehend. Was he truly handing them weapons?"What… what are you planning?"

"You sent him to retrieve guns, did you not?" 44 gestured toward the trembling subordinate.

"Well, here they are. Show some gratitude. Try your luck."

The staff knew he was toying with them.Yet the alternative—doing nothing—was even worse.

Scrambling, they lunged for the weapons, raising them in unison. The room held its breath.44 remained still.

Despite the barrels aimed directly at him, his expression betrayed no fear, no tension. Only a cold, methodical gaze.

The air was thick with suspense.And then—

Click.

Nothing.

"He removed the ammo…" one of them whispered, voice barely audible.Sweat dripped down their temples.

"You see," 44 murmured, watching them with quiet amusement, "you wouldn't hesitate to take a life to protect your own. Humans never fail to disappoint me."

"Please—spare me!" One of the staff members suddenly dropped to his knees, hands clasped in desperate prayer.

His coworkers cast him sidelong glances, their thoughts cruel.*Only begging for himself… I hope he dies.* *He didn't even try to save us—just himself.*"Spare you?" 44 echoed.

"Why should this even be a conversation? Why would you attempt to kill a child like me?""A child?"

The kneeling man's face twisted with anger. "You're no child. You're a monster! A devil!""A devil?"

44 took a slow step forward. His piercing gaze never wavered."But weren't you the ones who made me this way?"The man's accusing finger trembled and lowered.

The weight of those words crushed down on him.

"You monitored us like cattle," 44 continued, his tone eerily neutral. "You eagerly observed the Nursery's results, never considering that one day, the product of your efforts would come back for you." He took another step.

"Tell me… how does it feel? As an adult, you should be guiding children, shaping their future. And yet, here you are—forcing a child to bear the burden of being a perfect creation."

His voice hardened.

"I find it disgusting."The silence was suffocating."We did this for the greater good," one of them blurted out, grasping at straws. "We only sought to—"

"—To what?" 44 cut in sharply.His gaze landed on the speaker like a blade."To erase our identities? To strip away our humanity? Many had dreams—ambitions—all lost to this place. And you were part of it."

The staff flinched. No matter how much they denied it internally, his words rang true."You are as responsible for the deaths in the Nursery as anyone else," 44 continued, unwavering.

"The subjects in my Room. The instructors. The workers. Each life lost because of your choices."

He slowly reached behind him."You created the devil you claim I am," he said, producing a Glock 19.

He held it out to the subordinate who had gone to fetch the weapons."You have one chance to spare them from the judgment they would bring upon themselves."

The gun lay between them. A choice.

"Wait… you're not actually going to—"

Bang.

The gunshot cut the sentence short.More shots soon followed, echoing through the halls.

44 stepped out of the surveillance sector, the screams behind him fading into insignificance.

He turned slightly, glancing at the "chef" still standing there.Reaching into his coat, he withdrew another pistol.

"Here," he said, offering it. "Use this to rid yourself of the guilt. It will follow you to your grave otherwise."

The chef hesitated before taking it. 44 raised a hand in parting. "Remember, I'll be on my way now."

The stench of gas filled the air. It swirled around them, suffocating, inescapable.The weight of what had transpired was reaching its climax