Chapter 11 - The Final Experiment

The sterile laboratory hummed with an unnatural energy. Max's crimson eyes tracked the movements of the researchers as they prepared for what they had called "the ultimate trial." He sat strapped to the cold metal table, his small, pale body dwarfed by the imposing machinery surrounding him. Though he looked no older than a nine-year-old child, his gaze carried a weight far beyond his years, sharpened by months of torment and a lifetime of memories from two vastly different worlds.

A researcher approached, his face partially obscured by a mask. Beneath it, Max could sense a smirk. "Well, E-3183, Maksimilian or just Max, this is it. Your last hurrah. Lucky you, huh?" His tone was light, mocking, but the malice was unmistakable.

Another researcher chuckled. "You should be honored, kid. You're about to make history."

Max's jaw tightened, his small fists clenching against the restraints. "You're really milking this whole 'mad scientist' shtick, huh?" he said, his voice steady despite the tension coiling in his chest.

The first researcher tilted his head, pretending to consider Max's words. "Oh, you're a funny one. Too bad this is the end of the line for you. But don't worry—your sacrifice will be remembered. Well... by us at least."

Max's crimson eyes burned with fury, but he held his tongue. His mind raced instead, cataloging every detail, every piece of equipment in the room. 'Focus. Endure. There has to be a way out of this… eventually.'

---

The lead researcher, Rellen, entered the room, his sharp features illuminated by the glowing panels of data. He surveyed Max with cold detachment, his clipped voice cutting through the tension.

"Begin the process," he ordered.

Assistants moved swiftly, injecting Max with a series of unknown substances. His veins burned as the chemicals spread through his body, igniting every nerve in a symphony of pain. Max bit down hard, his small frame straining against the restraints.

"Vitals holding steady," one assistant reported. "Subject even now is… adapting faster than expected."

"Push the next dose," Rellen commanded.

A second syringe was prepared, this one filled with a swirling, iridescent liquid. The assistant hesitated briefly, then plunged the needle into Max's arm. The reaction was immediate. His body convulsed, his vision blurring as waves of searing heat coursed through him.

"Brainwave activity spiking," another assistant called out. "Subject is entering a hyper-adaptive state."

Through the haze of pain, fragments of Max's memories began to surface. He saw flashes of his past lives: the modern, bustling streets of his first world, the quiet opulence of his brief existence as a minor noble in the cultivation realm. And then, unbidden, a single phrase echoed in his mind:

'1000-7, 993-7, 986-7...'

The numbers repeated, a strange and disjointed mantra. Max's eyes snapped open, the crimson orbs glowing brighter than ever. 'What the hell is this?' he thought, his mind latching onto the phrase like a lifeline. The rhythm of the numbers steadied him, grounding him amidst the chaos.

The researchers exchanged uneasy glances as Max's vitals stabilized unexpectedly. Rellen stepped closer, his expression darkening.

"Take samples and then increase the intensity," he ordered.

"Master Rellen," one assistant protested, "any more and the subject's body might—"

"Do it," Rellen snapped. "We're out of time."

A third injection was prepared, this one thicker and darker than the others. The moment it entered Max's bloodstream, his body erupted in violent spasms. The pain was unlike anything he'd experienced before, a raw and consuming agony that threatened to tear him apart.

And again numbers begun to enter in his mind. '979-7, 972-7, 965-7...' The mantra echoed louder in his mind, drowning out the voices of the researchers and the beeping of the monitors. Max's thoughts blurred, his mind teetering on the edge of collapse.

---

In the observation room, Velnar watched with a mix of fascination and calculation. Beside him stood Lady Arlin and Lord Drevon, their expressions carefully neutral.

"He's holding up remarkably well," Arlin remarked, her sharp eyes fixed on the writhing boy. "Most subjects would have expired by now."

"That resilience is precisely what makes him valuable," Velnar replied, his tone calm. "But he's nearing his limit. The relocation must happen soon."

Drevon grunted. "If he survives this, we may have our answer. But if he doesn't... well we'll need to cut our losses."

"He will survive," Velnar said with quiet confidence. "And when he does, he will be the key to unlocking powers this world has never seen."

---

Back in the lab, Max's screams finally broke free, a raw and guttural sound that echoed through the sterile room. The researchers moved quickly, adjusting monitors and administering stabilizing agents to keep him alive. His body thrashed against the restraints, the pain reaching a crescendo before everything went dark.

When Max's body fell still, the researchers hesitated. One assistant glanced at Rellen. "Should we administer anesthesia?"

Rellen shook his head. "No need. He's unconscious. Prepare him for transport. We're finished here."

---

Max drifted in a void, the pain a distant memory. In the darkness, a memory from his first life surfaced, vivid and warm. He saw himself with Lisa, her laughter ringing out as they raced through a park on a sunny afternoon. The smell of fresh grass, the warmth of the sun, and the sound of her voice filled the void, a fleeting reminder of a happiness that felt so far away.

When consciousness returned, he was back in the holding chamber. Lynara and Tarren hovered over him, their faces pale with worry.

"Max," Lynara whispered, her glowing veins casting a faint light on his face. "Can you hear me?"

Max's eyes fluttered open, his voice weak but steady. "Yeah. I'm still here."

Tarren let out a shaky breath, his scaled hands clenching into fists. "They're pushing you too far. You can't keep taking this."

"I don't have a choice," Max replied, his crimson eyes meeting Tarren's. "But if they think this is breaking me, they're wrong."

Lynara placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle. "You're stronger than they realize. We all see it."

Max nodded faintly, the memoris of his happy moments with a woman he loved the most still echoing in his mind as he prepared for whatever came next.