{ THIRD PERSON POINT OF VIEW }

  Taniyama ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. His mind raced through every possible way this could go horribly wrong.

  Natsukawa pressed on. “Ever since that day, 944 has been acting strange. She keeps saying she wants to befriend him or something. Her parents tried talking her out of it, but lately... she’s been refusing to go to the experiments voluntarily. I have to drag her there every day.” His voice was quiet, his eyes fixed on the tiled floor. “If this keeps up, she might... stop regenerating.” He finally lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Taniyama. “I need to comply with her wishes somehow.”

  A heavy silence hung between them before Taniyama spoke. “And that’s why you came to me?”

  Natsukawa nodded. "If the higher-ups catch wind of this, things will get messy," he said, his tone growing more serious. "For me. And for you." He leaned forward slightly. "Can you do something about it?"

  The door suddenly swung open, and Sonozaki and Toyoshima stepped inside.

  "It won’t be that simple," Sonozaki said, his voice grave.

  Both Taniyama and Natsukawa turned to face them.

  "We heard everything," Toyoshima added as the two approached.

  Sonozaki crossed his arms. "Even if we manage to sneak her into his room, there are risks—no, there are consequences."

  Natsukawa met his gaze. "I’ve looked into 715’s background. I know exactly what you’re getting at," he admitted. "But what’s done is done. You and I both need to fix this."

  Taniyama exhaled deeply, his head hanging low. "But we can’t," he said, his voice heavy. He reached for the files on his desk and shoved them toward Natsukawa.

  His hands trembled.

  "That boy..." he muttered, fear laced in every word. "That boy is a monster."

  The room fell into silence. No one dared to speak.

  "If he wills it, he can destroy this planet—no, this entire universe."

  Natsukawa stared at the pages, his eyes scanning the dense equations and theoretical models sprawled across the paper. But no matter how hard he tried to analyze them, he couldn't make sense of it. He was a scientist—respected, even renowned in his field—but this? This was beyond anything grounded in logic. The equations describing the Absolute Effector’s reality-bending properties were incomprehensible.

  It didn’t belong in the realm of science.

  His grip on the paper tightened slightly as he stole a glance at Taniyama. Only now did he fully realize just how brilliant the man in front of him was.

  Taniyama’s gaze flickered to Sonozaki, his voice cold and steady. "We designed his way of thinking from the moment he was born," he said.

  Sonozaki didn’t respond, but his expression was unreadable.

  "Everything—his thoughts, his reasoning—we shaped it so he would never realize he had autonomy," Taniyama continued. "No sense of will. No personal desire. We never gave him the chance to develop social skills, a personality, anything that could make him human."

  He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower. "We trained him to be a machine. Because if he ever understood the truth—if he ever wanted to—he could walk out of this lab whenever he pleased."

  Silence hung heavy in the room before Sonozaki finally spoke.

  "Taniyama-sensei," he began, his voice steady but solemn. "We did everything in our power to strip him of his humanity." His gaze flickered toward Toyoshima, whose face was clouded with unease. "But as I feared... nothing can truly suppress the human mind."

  Taniyama stiffened. "W-What...?" His voice wavered, with a hint of confusion and dread.

  "We realized it two months ago," Toyoshima added, his tone hesitant, almost reluctant. "We were in his room, speaking with him as usual... and then, out of nowhere, he activated his ability. No command. No instruction."

  Taniyama's breath hitched, his eyes widening.

  "He said it was too dark," Sonozaki continued. "So he illuminated the entire room with the Absolute Effector—adjusting its brightness, making it more comfortable for himself. That was the first time I've witnessed him decide on his own." Taniyama's eyes widened, Sonozaki continued. "If he's capable of reasoning like that... then.."

  A cold dread seeped into Taniyama’s bones. His hands moved on their own, gripping Sonozaki’s collar with a slow, trembling force.

  "This..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "This is what you were trying to tell me back then."

  Sonozaki barely reacted. His expression remained unreadable as he calmly pried Taniyama’s fingers from his collar.

  "Yes," he said simply.

  Taniyama stood frozen, his mind racing, his breath unsteady.

  Then Toyoshima spoke. "There’s nothing we can do. Whether we like it or not, he’s going to awaken—one way or another." His voice carried a quiet finality, a truth none of them wanted to acknowledge. They refused to. For a long time.

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  A tense silence followed before Toyoshima continued, his gaze sharp, unwavering. "So instead of trying to suppress it… why not ride the wave?"

  "Ride the wave…?" Taniyama echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Toyoshima nodded. "We manipulate him into thinking what we want him to think—if he learns to think at all." His tone was cold, calculated. "According to Natsukawa here, our dear boy has already disrupted their experiment. We messed up. There’s no undoing it. So we need to let them meet… but under our control. We supervise them, we shape the way he sees her, ensuring that 715 aligns with our cause."

  Taniyama stared at him, his chest tightening. When had he stopped seeing the people around him as colleagues and started seeing them as monsters? Or maybe——maybe they had always been this way, and he had simply refused to notice. And yet, despite the bitter taste in his mouth, he couldn’t deny it. That was the best solution.

  ——————

  Taniyama stood frozen in front of Room 944, Natsukawa beside him. From behind the door, muffled voices filtered through—the desperate coaxing of two adults, urging a child to eat her breakfast, to go to the experiment.

  His skin crawled.

  They spoke so gently, so sweetly, yet every word was a lie. They weren’t comforting her; they were deceiving her, dressing up pain as something necessary, something she had to endure. And they? They would never even witness it. They would never see the blood, the tears, the horror of it all.

  Taniyama swallowed hard. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t think he could look her in the eye.

  His mind betrayed him with an image of his own daughter.

  Natsukawa exhaled deeply before pressing the button on the side of the door. It slid open with a soft hiss.

  Inside, the scene played out as expected.

  "L-Look, mister escort is here..." The father forced a smile, one that barely clung to his lips. His hands trembled as he reached out toward the girl. "C-Come on… this time, surely, we’ll go see a firework show… okay?"

  The mother wasn’t even trying anymore. She sat by the dining table, rubbing her temples, sighing deeply.

  Dad's gaze flickered toward the doorway, landing on the masked escort first—then shifting to the man standing beside him. A stranger. Someone he had never seen before.

  Dad cast one last glance at Hanabi before standing, his movements sluggish, drained. As he approached the two men at the entrance, the exhaustion in his face became even clearer—dark circles under his eyes, a slight tremor in his breath.

  "L-Look, we tried everything," he started, voice low, desperate. Then his tired gaze landed on Taniyama. "Please, just give us more time. We'll definitely convince her," he whispered.

  Taniyama raised a hand, cutting off the plea. "No, I'm not who you think I am," he said, his tone even, though his presence alone seemed to put Dad on edge.

  Dad turned to the masked escort for answers.

  "Let us talk to 944," the escort said simply.

  There was hesitation. Fear. Dad's lips parted slightly, as if to argue, but no words came. He knew better than to refuse. The situation was already precarious—too many things were slipping out of control.

  Without another word, he stepped aside, ushering them in. The two men entered, taking seats across from Hanabi at the dining table. From the sidelines, her parents stood silently, watching.

  Taniyama stared at the girl, his expression unreadable. Whether it was shock—fear—or sorrow— No one could tell. Not even himself.

  Something burned inside him, a slow, painful sensation that he wished would stop.

  The girl’s face was a dead ghost. Her eyes held no color, hollow, like a deep well with no bottom. There was nothing to catch the light inside them. Nothing left to reflect it. Just a deep, suffocating darkness that threatened to swallow him whole. He couldn’t place her expression—couldn’t even call it blank. There had to be a better word for it, but it escaped him. It was a face no child should ever wear.

  Was it rage building inside him? He didn't know.

  Hanabi met his gaze, her eyes filled with quiet curiosity. Taniyama’s thoughts raced—Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you. The words echoed in his mind, but he didn’t dare say them. As if they would change anything. Instead, all that left his lips was a quiet, absentminded—

  “Hello…”

  He watched as she dipped her head in a slight bow. The motion was small, mechanical, without hesitation or doubt. Taniyama followed it with his eyes, his stomach twisting in protest. He wanted to leave. To walk out of this room, this building, this entire godforsaken world. But he didn't.

  He forced himself to speak. "I'm Doctor Taniyama. You must be H-Hanabi-chan?"

  A pause. Barely a breath between them.

  "Yes." She nodded once. "Are you here to punish me?"

  Taniyama's mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. His throat locked, his body frozen in place.

  "N-No," he managed.

  She didn't look afraid. She didn't look relieved. She didn't look anything.

  And, really, why would she?

  What could they possibly do to her that would serve as punishment? She had been cut open, burned, crushed, drowned—again and again and again. What on this earth could make her fear something worse?

  Taniyama turned his gaze away. He couldn't look at her any longer. "I'm not here for that," he said, voice steady, detached. Like it mattered.

  "I don't want to go," she said.

  Taniyama lifted his head.

  "Please. Don't drag me back there."

  The words were shaped like a plea, but they didn't sound like one. Something about them felt... wrong. Not forced, not insincere—just empty. They carried no weight, no expectation. A learned response. That was what it was. She had been raised on words that promised warmth but delivered only cold. Sweet voices, empty hands. And so, her own words carried the same hollowness.

  "I'm not going to," he said. He took a slow, deep breath. "I heard you met 715."

  Her eyes widened.

  It was so sudden that he almost flinched. Light flickered into her gaze. Not much. But it was there.

  For the first time, her voice didn't feel so distant.

  "Y-Yes..." she muttered.

  "And you want to be friends with him?"

  It was an honest question. A stupid one, maybe. Where had she even learned that word? Who had told her about it? And why? What was the point of teaching a child about something she would never have?

  Hanabi's lifeless posture shifted, just slightly. There was something new in her now—a hint of eagerness, of desperation.

  "Y-Yes." She leaned forward without realizing it.

  "Why?"

  Taniyama was genuinely asking. "Why do you want to befriend him so much?"

  "He's suffering!"

  The force of her voice struck the room like a sudden impact. Everyone flinched.

  "Even more than me... He's—"

  She paused. Her head dipped, her voice wavered.

  "He needs help."

  Taniyama froze.

  His eyes widened. More than he was confused, he was disgusted with himself. Her words pierced him like spears, hurting his ego, his whole being. But who was he to think or complain about pain?

  Taniyama opened his mouth. "I am the scientist who handles him," he stated, quickly adding to avoid any misunderstanding, "His experiments are different from yours. You've already seen his abilities, right?"

  She nodded, and her lips naturally curved upward. "Yes," she replied, recalling that warm glow with wonder. Taniyama had never expected anyone to feel such awe for the Absolute Effector.

  "Listen, Hanabi-chan," he continued, "I can bring you to him."

  Hanabi's eyes widened, sparkles appearing in them. "R-Really?"

  "Yes. But you need to go to the lab for now."

  Hanabi stood up immediately. "Okay!" she replied enthusiastically. Despite everything, she wasn’t scared at all, she was willing to endure the pain if it meant helping 715.

  ––––––––––

  Later that day, Hanabi walked out of the lab. Her new clothes were clean now, having replaced the ones soaked in her own blood. Taniyama waited outside; he couldn’t bring himself to go in and hear her screams.

  The slight, underweight girl approached him and Natsukawa, the escort.

  "Let's go meet him," Taniyama said softly.

  [ To be continued ]