"Wake up…"
A soft voice spoke above isle's ear. He couldn't hear her in his sleep though.
"Wake up."
The same voice repeated it once again into his ear, disregarding the fact he hadn't answered the first time.
"Hey, it's time to wake up."
Next to him but not directly in his ear a new voice spoke, and Isle slowly opened his eyes.
Isle heard the entire room gasp as he slowly got up, he rubbed his eyes.
Some of the gasps were in joy, others were in surprise, while one was in confusion.
"So you wake up at the sound of his voice but not mine? Little jerk."
The girl from before pouted slightly then sighed.
He glanced at her, and down at himself, he could only be 7 or 8.
She looked to be the same age, though he didn't care.
The room's interior looked to be just a normal room. It was simple, with the bed he was in, a desk with flowers of all colors, and an open window sill revealing a beautiful garden.
He wriggled slightly in the reinforced straitjacket restraining him, he did it more to gauge it's strength more than anything.
It was overly restrictive, with many more belts than usual and even several alchemical seals, almost as if it'd been made with past incidents in mind.
Finally he looked up at the new voices bearer.
A young man looked down at him, Isle knew that it was this man's voice that'd woke him up.
The man's long white hair was almost blinding, Isle moved a hand to block his face.
"Hey, ########. I'm Laplace, the lead alchemist of your creation."
He smiled—though Isle didn't really care at all, instead he looked at the empty doorframe in anticipation.
"957's awakening is successful. The first true homunculus has been created… All standard procedures should start now. Laplace, stop running your mouth and make sure his alchemy circles are stable."
An old man with a rough voice spoke, his mustache gave him the appearance of a sweet grandparent, but his tone conveyed the complete opposite.
He stood in the doorframe of the room, leaning on a staff.
Just as Isle knew he would.
"Do you gotta be so harsh all the time? Like you got a stick in yo- nevermind... yes, Paracelsus."
Laplace would've continued but Isle was right there, and continuing would've only led to a lecture.
The other alchemists in the room were used to his blatant disrespect towards their director Paracelsus. So it didn't really surprise them.
"Show me your back, B#x####s."
Without a word, Isle did just that. Though he frowned a little.
Laplace began to undo the many straps on the back of the straitjacket before the reinforced fibers were blown to bits by a blast of force, leaving only the legs of it intact.
He would've found it surprising, but the jacket wasn't really expected to hold him. It was more for the sake of it than anything.
Isle sighed and stretched.
"Show-off…"
Laplace scoffed.
Isle didn't bother replying, instead he simply looked back at Laplace expectantly.
"Hm? Oh right."
Laplace looked at the alchemy circles engraved into Isle's back.
Each one was carved just beneath the skin, rather than being simply drawn on his skin.
They all looked fine so he turned Isle around and looked at the circles on his chest, they were fine as well.
"Everything looks alright. Final seal?"
Laplace asked Paracelsus without bothering to look at him.
"Go ahead."
***
Isle fell to his knees and threw up, he held his stomach with a hand and propped himself up with the other.
"What the hell was that…"
He slammed his hand into the floor.
"Was that me?"
"What the hell even am I…?"
He asked, but he already had the answer to his questions.
He was a creation made with alchemy, a homunculus.
A complete and total sham of a human being.
The creation of homunculi was strictly forbidden, so what would happen to a living one?
'No one's found out to this day, so I think I'll be fine in that regard…'
[Rene Ver Mo has refused to be a memento.]
"What…? Do I not have enough on my plate already?"
[Rene Ver Mo has shattered.]
"There goes my only real weapon…"
He sighed in resignation.
"You hardly deserve a weapon anyways."
Looking down at him was none other than Rene. His hunch was right, Rene was a living weapon.
"So you have the power to do this, but instead of killing Cassius when you had the chance. You insult me when I try and fail? It's a fucked up world I live in."
At this point, nothing that was thrown at him could possibly surprise him.
"I don't remember my creator asking me to kill Cassius. He asked you, or are you just that stupid?"
She shook her head dismissively.
"I need a minute of quiet…"
"Good luck on that."
Her disdain could be felt in just about everything she did, but it seemed to spike in that sentence.
"If I'm so disappointing to you, why don't you go find someone else to be with? Huh?"
Isle retorted.
"Last time I checked, I was made for you to wield, not just anybody."
She found it almost unsettling that someone was this stupid.
"So I'm not an anybody? Isn't that something?"
The look on her face could only be described as one of pure displeasure.
"Is that an accomplishment for you? Why the hell did he waste his time on you?"
It was obvious she was referring to Vermilion.
"If you're trying to make me suicidal, you're doing a great job. Can you leave now?"
He asked more out of annoyance than any real rationale.
"I'd love to, but guess what? I'm not exactly the owner of this Palace…"
She looked at him while tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.
'This Palace? So that's what this place is.'
"Well just how the hell am I supposed to-"
He would've finished his sentence but it was cut off when Reverie spoke.
[The first alchemic circle has been unbound. Unravel yourself, Isle Calamitas.]
The realm distorted and warped before it completely vanished.