Chapter 14: Utterly Alone
2021.12.18
A long time ago, a frail, tiny boy was brought into the room next to Askan’s laboratory. Countless children came and went over the weeks, so Askan had never paid much attention to who was in the adjoining room. But this boy was different. He was impossible to ignore. He talked—endlessly.
“Big brother, big brother, how long have you been here?”
Askan didn’t remember. All of his memories existed only in the laboratory. He could only guess that he had been there since he was a newborn.
“Wow, then you’ve lived here forever!”
The boy’s questions came without pause. Askan rarely answered, yet the boy’s chatter never stopped.
“If I wait here, my mom will come get me. She promised she would when things got better for us.”
The moment Askan heard this, he realized—ah, he’d been abandoned. He had no memories of his parents, but in that place, even he could tell. Most children in the lab were the same: either orphans or sold by parents who couldn’t afford them. The boy, known as 1890, had no particularly unique story. What made him different was that every night, he cried but did not deny reality—he sincerely waited for his parents to come.
“Big brother, can you write?”
Askan had survived long enough in the lab to undergo intelligence tests. He could read and write, and he had a bit of specialized knowledge.
“Can you teach me how to write too? I want to show off when I meet my mom.”
In short, he was a genuinely troublesome child. Whenever the boy nagged, Askan would cover his ears and lie down on his bed. His parents would never come. He didn’t want to shatter the child’s dreamlike illusions, but he also didn’t want to indulge them. No matter how much he built walls, the boy followed him relentlessly. Perhaps that’s why Askan began to pay attention. Perhaps this was what people called “attachment.”
The boy stayed in the next room for quite some time. Just as Askan was slowly getting used to the chatter, he suddenly realized the boy was secretly coughing up blood in the middle of the night. He knew immediately—it was a side effect of the experiments. Any child who coughed up blood like this would soon disappear.
“Big brother, promise you won’t tell the men. If they find out, they might throw me out. I have to wait until my mom comes.”
The boy’s innocence made him foolish. No matter how long he waited, his parents wouldn’t come. And hiding it was impossible. Over time, the boy’s face, already small and frail, grew sickly. Watching him, Askan felt a strange anger. Medicine was needed. Even if the boy didn’t survive long… at least he wanted to ease the pain. But no matter how loudly Askan shouted or caused a commotion, no one listened. Not a single painkiller was given.
He thought he had grown used to it, but deep inside, defiance surged. Hundreds, even thousands of experimental drugs were available, yet they refused even a single painkiller because the child’s life wasn’t worth it. Everyone cared only about the outcomes of human weapon experiments, not the children dying like lab rats.
That day, when the boy coughed up blood again, he was dragged back to the lab. Askan’s instincts screamed that if this happened, the boy would never return. The boy likely knew it too.
“Big brother! Big brother! I don’t want to go! Save me!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Askan slammed the door and shouted with all his strength. Don’t take him. He doesn’t want to go! It was the loudest he had ever shouted in his life. He knew strong men would come with sedatives and beat him, but he couldn’t stand by. Perhaps because of his frenzy, the researcher taking the boy looked annoyed.
“What kind of pathetic friendship game are you playing? You don’t understand your situation, do you? Shall I make it clear?”
The researcher didn’t speak, but his intention was obvious: he knew exactly how to stop Askan’s interference.
“Listen carefully, 1890. There’s only one way to avoid your experiment.”
The researcher pointed at Askan with a finger.
“13 will take the experiment instead of you.”
The boy’s expression changed instantly. Relief and a twisted kind of joy replaced the despair in his eyes. Without being told, Askan knew the boy felt comforted at the thought of sending him into hell instead. Part of Askan understood this logically, but emotionally, it was complicated. If asked the same, he would have taken the experiment himself without hesitation. But seeing the boy welcome it was unsettling. Askan wanted to save the boy from hell, yet the boy was willing to send him there to save himself. The difference was painfully clear.
“Big brother, you’ll go instead, right? Please… I’m weaker than you.”
The boy would trade anyone to avoid the suffering—even Askan, who had helped him. Askan realized once more: the world was utterly alone. No one would take his hand and walk through hell with him. Frustratingly, the researcher’s calculations were correct. Askan knew he could no longer face the boy the same way. He didn’t know how he would look at him after enduring the experiment in his place. But it didn’t matter—the boy would already be a cold corpse. A bitterly hollow ending.
“All this… for this?”
He couldn’t even survive a day longer, yet he asked Askan to take the experiment. Askan watched the boy’s body discarded like trash. He didn’t feel sad—just cold. His own future wasn’t much different; he would also die in an experiment eventually. He hadn’t been born because he wanted to live—he was simply breathing because he existed. Life held no value to him.
Suddenly, a pale woman pleaded with a guard:
“My child is here! Please, I beg you, help me find my child!”
Askan’s world shattered.
“What? How did she find out?! Get her out of here immediately!”
The woman was dragged away, likely knowing she might not leave alive. Even if the child’s parents finally appeared, Askan couldn’t have recognized them. Until now, he assumed everyone was abandoned. Perhaps he was the only one truly alone. For the first time, he realized he didn’t want to die here.
“Could someone risk their life for me?”
He had never received affection, nor had his kindness been returned. To him, emotions were as unreal as a storybook fairy tale. But seeing the woman looking for the child, he became curious about the world outside. The laboratory had been everything, but outside… maybe there was hope. For the first time, a sprout of hope grew in his heart. He resolved to make one last desperate attempt at escape.
The escape was dangerous but simple—he had nothing to lose. He succeeded, yet the world outside was not much different from the lab.
“That boy’s just in ragged clothes. Maybe he isn’t really a slave. Can we really sell him?”
“Don’t waste time worrying. What does it matter to us? We just take the money.”
Those who captured Askan as a slave for profit offered no help. Even the Brelov family never extended a hand. Askan remained utterly alone, even after leaving the lab.
“…Has it changed a little now?”
He thought of Tanathia. For some reason, she had been unusually kind to him lately. He recalled the past briefly, lost in thought.
“There! That one!”
Ed grabbed Askan’s arm and pointed to a tree. Following Ed’s finger, Askan saw ripe fruit hanging high.
“You want to eat that?”
“Yes, yes!”
He lifted Ed to pick the fruit. Excited, Ed laughed joyfully. At that moment, Ed reminded Askan of 1890.
“Big brother! Big brother!”
Had 1890 survived, he would have been much older than Ed. But it was no longer possible. Askan didn’t feel nostalgic—just a deep pity for the life 1890 was forced to lose.
Footsteps approached quickly. Ed’s mother, Lela, ran toward them, clearly worried. Askan set Ed down and said quietly:
“Be good to your mom.”
“Okay.”
Though Ed didn’t fully understand, Askan knew not everyone received parental love. He tapped Ed on the head instead of explaining. When Lela arrived, Ed ran into her arms.
“Thank you for looking after my child, Askan.”
“No problem.”
“If you ever need my help, tell me. I’ll help.”
“Understood.”
“Then we’ll be off. See you later.”
Askan watched them go, the mother and child looking so warm together.
“Could I ever have that?”
A relationship with love given and returned, independent of circumstances or gain. He smiled wryly—dreaming of affection he had never known.
Shaking off the thought, he walked to Tanathia’s room.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
The room was different from usual. Tanathia was surrounded by stacks of books, almost hidden by their sheer number. Askan didn’t ask—only a chosen few could voice such curiosity freely.
“I heard you wanted to see me.”
“Oh, yes. You’re late.”
She closed her book with a snap, revealing her icy, regal beauty. Her sharp blue eyes gleamed as she spoke:
“I have something to tell you.”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“I’ve decided my path.”
“My path?”
“I’ll make weapons. The strongest weapon in the world.”
Askan couldn’t understand. A noblewoman developing weapons? Why the strongest weapon without plans to conquer a continent? Still, he didn’t ask. He only wanted to know why she called him.
“Do you have a task for me?”
“No, just a progress report.”
“Progress report?”
“You don’t know yet, but this is for our happy future. Remember the project I mentioned? To live long and happily. This is part of it.”
Askan’s opinion didn’t matter; as a slave, he had to obey. Yet Tanathia explained things in detail, as if respecting his thoughts—a strange kindness.
“Last time I suggested a trip, but we’ll have to postpone it because of this. Keep that in mind.”
“Understood.”
“It’ll soon be mealtime. Some materials are left to review, so wait there a moment.”
Askan sat where she indicated. From his spot, he could clearly see her focus: her bright blue eyes, thoughtful expression, the way she lifted hair from her face. For the first time, memories of the lab—1890, the escape, his purpose—faded. He realized all his attention was on Tanathia, flipping pages unknowingly.
