The Children's Suffering

With a strange mix of apprehension and trepidation, Shu stepped forward.

Vakh shifted, giving him a clear view. Shu finally saw the condition of the child lying before him.

At first glance, Shu thought it wasn't a child at all but a massive lizard covered in fine scales.

A lizardman!

A mythical beast—something Shu thought existed only in fantasy—now lay right in front of him. It felt surreal… like a nightmare.

Shu involuntarily took half a step back, glancing around the room.

Rows of small, white-curtained cubicles lined the walls on either side. An almost imperceptible darkness clung to these lifeless "rooms."

No breathing sounds. No cries.

Only the faint beep... beep... beep of heart monitors echoed in the silence—like the ticking of Death's stopwatch, counting down the remaining moments of each child's life.

Shu's heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm that bordered on painful.

The subtle waves of suffering and despair he'd sensed from the children before now crashed over him, making it hard to breathe.

This wasn't fear of monsters. It was an oppressive weight—an agonizing sense of helplessness.

Could he do anything at all?

"Disturbing, isn't it?"

Vakh's voice startled Shu, pulling him from his thoughts. He gasped, finally turning to look at the man beside him. A look of grim familiarity rested on Vakh's face.

"It's alright. Natasha reacted the same way the first few times she visited these children," Vakh said with a smile.

To Shu, it felt like the smile of a devil—chillingly out of place.

"Are they... are these children in pain?" Shu asked. He pulled down the curtain Vakh held aside, taking several deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

"Physically, or mentally?" Vakh countered.

"Both," Shu replied, his voice hardening.

Vakh was silent for a moment, then walked over to a chart hanging at the bedside. He picked it up and began to read aloud:

"4:17 AM. Patient awoke screaming due to intense pain throughout the body. Presumed cause: rapid growth of scales beneath the skin, tearing through flesh."

Shu froze.

Vakh looked up at Shu's stunned expression, then returned to the chart.

"Let's see... yesterday's entry... Patient experienced further tooth loss. The shedding cycle has accelerated from every four days to every three. Patient awoke in agony due to pain in the gums. Oral painkillers ineffective; intramuscular injection required—scales too thick, necessitating removal of several scales prior to injection…"

"Enough!" Shu choked out.

He quickly crossed to Vakh, grabbing the chart and scanning it.

Scale growth... scale removal... shedding teeth...

The entries for the past two weeks all contained one recurring word: pain.

Hands trembling, Shu hung the chart back on its hook and snatched another from a nearby bed. He squinted at the writing.

"Patient's finger bone spurs pierced the skin again... Patient's finger bones grew again..."

Again, the same underlying theme: pain.

Shu grabbed several more charts, no longer bothering to be quiet. His eyes darted over the pages.

Every single one screamed the same agonizing message:

Pain.

He let his hands fall, feeling dazed.

Shu looked at Vakh, his eyes filled with questions, confusion, and a desperate plea.

"Are they all... like this?"

Vakh nodded, then delivered the final blow.

"These children are, on average, eleven years old."

Shu stumbled. His remaining composure barely kept him upright.

He closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths—forcing himself to regain control.

"Then why are they so quiet now?" Shu asked.

He replaced the charts and pulled back another curtain. The heart monitor beeped steadily, the line tracing a shallow but stable rhythm. He glanced at the IV drip—Vakh hadn't explained that yet.

"As you can see, these are medications I've personally prepared…," Vakh sighed. "To ease their suffering, to allow them some sleep, I have to add certain… ingredients."

"Morphine, pentazocine, buprenorphine, codeine..."

Vakh's voice was steady, but his expression darkened.

"The amount of painkillers we use here daily would have lasted me a month back when my clinic was full."

A heavy silence settled between them.

"For some of the children... I had to administer lethal doses."

Vakh's gaze dimmed. He left the rest unsaid, but Shu didn't need to hear it.

He already knew.

Most of these children would remain asleep, slipping away into the embrace of death.

"I can't help them anymore. They're evolving..."

Vakh's melancholic words were cut short.

"This isn't evolution!" Shu hissed, his voice sharp with anger. "This is a goddamn travesty!"

But then he forced himself to calm down.

"Tell me. What do you need to save these children? How can we save them?" he demanded, his brow furrowed.

Vakh's silence stretched longer this time.

He studied Shu with an unreadable expression.

Then, finally, he shook his head.

"We'd need to repair the altered gene sequences by referencing their original genetic samples… then re-establish their gene locks."

Vakh paused, then shook his head again.

"Impossible. The gene modification technology is only available in Future City. And the children's original genetic profiles… they're stored in Heliopolis Life Sciences Pharmaceutical's gene bank."

Shu's expression hardened.

"Heliopolis Life Sciences Pharmaceutical, right?" he asked gravely.

Vakh nodded slowly.

"Heliopolis keeps baseline information on everyone. It's for organ transplants and blood type matching."

Shu's gaze sharpened.

"And if we had the technology?" he pressed. "Could you reverse this?"

Vakh was silent for a long moment.

Then, finally, he nodded.

"Yes."

"Good."

Shu took a deep breath and let the curtain fall.

"The gene lock problem… I'll figure that out."