Kai Langford- July 2120
I sit on the edge of the nurse's office bed, the paper lining crinkling beneath me each time I shift. The room is small, quiet, and clean. It smells faintly of antiseptic and dust, an odd combination that doesn't match any medical room I've known. At the facility, everything smelled like bleach, metal, and fear.
Sophie stands a short distance away, shoulders drawn tight, her small frame bent over her notepad. She hasn't stopped writing since we arrived. She keeps tucking a strand of hair behind her ear only for it to fall forward again, like even her hair refuses to settle.
She's been asking questions, normal, basic medical questions since I sat down. Nothing I haven't heard a hundred times before. But she asks them differently. Carefully. As if every word she speaks might accidentally hurt me.
The doctors at the facility never looked at us like people. They didn't ask how we felt, only how much damage we could withstand. Their purpose was simple, keep us alive enough for the next test. Patch the body, not the person.
But Sophie… she keeps glancing at my side, worry flickering across her face faster than she can hide it. Real worry. Not the professional, distant kind. The kind you feel when you actually care.
It's strange. She's strange, too. Nervous, jumpy, like she expects someone to call her name wrong or accuse her of something she didn't do. At first I thought I was making her anxious since she doesn't know me. But walking through the corridors with her made it obvious, she's like this with everyone. It's just who she is.
Eventually, she turns, clutching the notepad like it might fly out of her hands.
"Erm… I'm sorry… but erm…" Her voice shakes, barely above a whisper. "Since we don't have any record on you, I need to ask a few more questions."
She won't look at me. Her gaze hovers around my shoulder, as if eye contact might burn her worse than the wound on my side.
I don't like giving information. I was trained not to. All I ever had to tell people was 004, that was the name that mattered. Me, my life, my past, they belonged to the facility, not to me. I learned about myself through overheard conversations, medical charts I wasn't meant to see, careless comments between doctors.
I didn't even know how old I was for such a long time.
So giving information about me feels wrong.
But Sophie looks like she might faint if I give her a hard time. For reasons I can't explain, the tension in me loosens a little. I don't trust people. I don't trust kindness. But she feels… safe, in a way that makes no sense.
Maybe it's her nervousness that makes her seem vulnerable. Like someone who needs to be looked after.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "That's fine."
She blinks, startled, then quickly looks back down and hands me the notebook.
Medical Record
Name: Kai Langford
Age: 21
Date of Birth: 13 Oct 2098
Height: 6'2'
Do you drink?:No
Do you smoke?: Yes
Medication: …
My pen pauses.
Medication.
I stare at the blank line. There are answers, but I'm not ready to hand them over. I don't know who sees this information. I don't know what they would do with it. I still don't know what this place really is.
So I leave it blank.
I leave a lot blank.
When I hand the notebook back, Sophie's eyes skim the page. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something, maybe ask why half of it isn't filled in but her nerves win, and she shuts it again, almost guiltily.
"O… okay," she murmurs. "Let's have a look at the burn."
She steps closer, pushing her glasses up with her knuckle in an absent, habitual motion. I lift my arm out of the way so she can reach my side. She takes out a pair of medical scissors and gently begins cutting through the bandage.
She's careful. Too careful. Like she's unwrapping something fragile, something precious.
The fabric sticks to the raw skin beneath. Pain tears through me, sharp and violent. I suck in a breath, jaw tightening. She pauses, looking up at me with wide, apologetic eyes.
"Sorry," she breathes.
I shake my head. "It's okay."
Pain is familiar. It's the one thing that's always made sense. And this isn't even the worst.
When the last of the bandage comes off, cold air hits the burn. It feels like someone branded me. I exhale slowly through clenched teeth.
The wound is bad. Angry, red, blistered and bleeding in places. A normal nurse wouldn't know where to start.
I expect Sophie to panic, but she doesn't. She doesn't recoil or look disgusted. She studies it with a focused calm I haven't seen from her yet.
"It's worse than I thought," she murmurs. "Can you lie down?"
I nod, bracing myself. Moving hurts, as the skin pulls and fire shoots through my nerves. I wince before I can stop it. Sophie is there immediately, easing me back. Her hands are steady, though her voice trembles.
Once I'm lying down, she pulls a chair beside me. I notice she has nothing with her, no ointment, no burn cream, no bandages.
Then she lifts her hands over the wound, and a soft green light blooms from her palms.
My breath catches. The glow warms the air, gentle, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"You have powers?" My voice comes out quieter than I expect.
She lifts her eyes briefly, a tiny, embarrassed smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah… I… I can heal."
Healing.
That is a power GeneX would kill for. A power my father would have caged her for. A power that could change everything.
Someone like Sophie having it… someone so small, so scared… makes something cold twist deep inside me.
We sit in silence as she works, the warm glow sinking into my skin. The pain eases, but not completely gone, not yet, but softened, like her power is gently untying every knot of agony.
But my mind refuses to quiet. Ethan said everyone here had some connection to GeneX. That they all ended up in this place because of them.
If that's true… I'm just a walking wound in the middle of their sanctuary.
"How did you end up with powers?" I ask, barely more than a whisper.
She hesitates. Her hands never stop glowing, but her eyes flicker, uncertainty, a memory, something darker.
"I… I actually used to be a test subject as well," she says softly.
The words hit like a punch.
I tense and try to sit up, stupid mistake because pain snaps through me and I collapse back.
"Stay still," she scolds gently.
"Sorry," I mumble.
Once she ensures I'm settled again, she continues.
"I was… test subject 006," she says, voice steadying.
My eyes widen. 006. She was only two test subjects after me.
It feels strange to know she was there at the same time as me.
"How did you get out?" I ask. "GeneX wouldn't let someone like you slip away."
She gives a small, almost proud smile. "Dr Thomas helped me."
The name slams into me and my chest tightens. Dr Thomas. The traitor of GeneX. The one I was sent to terminate. The one I tied to a chair in a cabin and threatened.
I've known Thomas for a long time. He seemed clever, and in his own small ways, concerned about test subjects' safety. But I assumed that was only to keep them from breaking. To keep experimenting.
But he helped her? Helped someone escape?
"How?" I breathe.
"I'll let him tell you," she says. "He's been wanting to speak to you."
A cold knot forms in my stomach. I don't know what he wants. I don't know if I want to know.
Then Sophie hesitates again.
"If you don't mind me asking…" Her voice shrinks. "I… I saw your surname is Langford."
My heart stops.
"Are you… Dr Langford's son?"
I don't answer. I turn my face away, the shame suffocating.
My silence is enough.
She doesn't say anything, not at first. The quiet stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. And all I can think is, with a power like hers, my father would have taken great interest in her.
What experiments did he force on her? How much did she have to endure?
... I don't deserve her kindness. I should leave.
"Sophie," I croak. "I should-"
"Done." She cuts me off, voice brightening almost cheerfully.
She helps me sit up, and I look down at my side.
What?
The burn is completely gone. Not even a faint mark to show it was ever there.
I stare, stunned. Then I touch the skin, half expecting pain but there's nothing. Just the warmth left from the glow of her power.
As I trace my fingers over the skin, Sophie suddenly reaches out and closes her hands around both of mine. Her fingers tremble slightly.
I look up at her has she stands in front of me and freeze.
There are tears in her eyes. Tears she's trying hard to hold back.
"I'm so, so sorry," she whispers, voice breaking, "for what your dad must have done to you."
She's crying… for me?
My stare lingers on her, confused. I thought she would be angry with me, I thought she would hate me for what my father did to her. The thought sits heavy in my chest. I drop my gaze, unable to meet her eyes. I can't seem to shake this guilt.
"Sophie… don't worry about me. I…" I pause. "I'm sorry for what my father did to you. For what he did to everyone here."
"No, Kai!" Her voice comes out louder, firm but not unkind. "You are not your father. You do not owe the world an apology for his sins. You deserve better than that."
Her voice softens as she speaks.
My head lifts before I even realise it, snapping up to her. I need to see her face, to check if she's lying, or mocking, or anything that would make this easier to dismiss. But she's sincere.
My chest aches, sharp, unfamiliar.… you deserve better than that.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I have no words. None that fit.
Then the moment breaks abruptly as the door swings open, hitting the wall with force. Ethan stands there, a faintly irritated smile on his face.