No. 13000

"Where... am I?" Zayn's voice came out weak. He tried lifting his head, but everything blurred.

His skull throbbed. The last thing he remembered was the rifle's butt slamming into him. Now, his scalp felt crusty with dried blood, and a dull ache pounded behind his eyes.

He blinked, his vision slowly clearing.

A small, cement-walled room surrounded him. The air was cold, biting through his skin and making him shiver.

Zayn tried to sit up, but something held him down. He glanced down—thick chains strapped across his torso, locking him in place.

"Fuck this thing!" He tugged at it, but it didn't budge. 

Suddenly, the door swung open. A group of people stepped inside—several in dark tactical gear, their vests loaded with ammo and knives.

Black masks covered their faces, leaving only their cold, watchful eyes visible. Their boots thudded against the cement floor with each step.

Among them were two others dressed in white, their uniforms crisp and sterile, looking more like medical staff than soldiers.

Zayn barely had time to process their presence before the mercenaries stepped forward, their grins creeping across their faces, like they were looking at a dead man.

Meanwhile, the two nurses stayed silent as they set down trays filled with syringes and dangerous looking vials. 

"Where the hell am I? Answer me!" Zayn thrashed against the chains, his muscles aching. 

The cold metal dug into his skin, but he didn't care. His pulse pounded in his ears as the nurses moved closer, a syringe in hand.

"Stay the hell away from me!" he growled, jerking his body to the side. The chair beneath him barely shifted. 

One of the mercenaries chuckled. "Save your energy," he muttered. "You're not going anywhere."

The nurse grabbed his arm, fingers cold and firm against his skin.

He tried to pull away, but it was useless. The chains held him down. A sharp prick pierced his skin as the needle emptied a few milligrams of an unknown substance into his veins.

"Bastards," he spat out. 

A strange numbness spread through his arm, creeping up to his shoulder.

The nurses stepped back, checking their watches as if he were some kind of experiment.

Minutes passed. Nothing changed.

One of them nodded in satisfaction, flipping through pages in a binder.

They prepared another syringe.

Zayn's stomach twisted. "Don't—" His words broke off as the second injection burned into his veins. This time, the effect hit harder.

But he could still endure it, so the nurses kept injecting him, one dose after another.

A wave of nausea hit, making his head spin. His vision blurred, and his body felt heavier by the second.

The nurses exchanged glances, jotting something down. The mercenaries just watched, their grins never fading.

Zayn swallowed hard as his vision blurred. A heavy numbness crept through his body. For a moment, he wondered if this was it—an execution through toxins, slow and inescapable.

--

--

--

"Wake up!" A sharp voice cut through the fog in his head. Then came the splash of ice-cold water. 

He gasped, his body jerking as the freezing shock hit him. His breath came in ragged gulps, his mind struggling to catch up.

When his vision cleared, the two nurses stood in front of him again.

This was the second week of them injecting him with vials of who-knows-what. For some reason, he was still alive. The substances made him sick for a few hours, leaving him weak and dizzy, but he always gets over it.

"Experiment number 13,000. After multiple tests, we've determined that he could recover to most human made drugs" the nurse said to his colleague. "This confirms that he carries the X DNA."

The other nurse nodded and began jotting down notes.

"We've reached the same conclusion, but he still isn't showing any signs of awakening. We already tried psychological tests on him, but none of them worked."

'Awakening? X DNA?' Zayn's mind spun, struggling to make sense of their words. None of it made any sense.

"Let's proceed with the final test. If he doesn't awaken after that, then he's just a defect like the rest."

They spoke in a formal tone, as if their recorded reports would be reviewed later. Every word felt rehearsed, like they were following protocol. 

"We're changing locations. Take him," one of the nurses instructed.

No time was wasted as a sack was shoved over his head.

Rough hands gripped his arms, dragging him somewhere else. He tried to speak, but they silenced him, covering his mouth before he could make a sound.

The air grew colder as they moved him. Zayn couldn't see where they were taking him, but the uneven ground beneath his feet told him they left the room. 

Then, a familiar sound echoed in his ears

Next, they shoved him into a cramped space. A low hum echoed as the floor vibrated. They were going down an elevator.

The silence felt heavy, broken only by the occasional murmur between the nurses.

Zayn stayed still, listening, trying to piece together what was happening.

"Experiments 12,997 to 12,999 awakened their powers, right? The people assigned to them got lucky. They'll get bonuses while we're stuck with this potential defect," one of the nurses grumbled. "Man, why did we even pick him?"

"Dude, don't blame me. You saw the video too, right? He was the smartest and strongest in his batch. I really thought he'd pull it off."

'Smartest? Strongest?'

Pieces of a puzzle he didn't even know existed were being forced on him, but nothing fit.