Is That My Alter Ego

Chapter 138 – Experiment Subject 8

A loosely tied black ponytail. And the two red dots on his mischievous face seemed to exude an air of mystery.

“This is the first time seeing you like this, isn’t it?”

“Yes… it is.”

“Haha… I knew a day like this would come, but now that it’s here, it feels so awkward.”

As he said, the atmosphere was thick with an almost suffocating awkwardness, filling this dark space.

Yet… knowing we were the same person, we could gaze into each other’s eyes and understand what thoughts lingered within.

“Well… there’s really no need for other words. So, are you ready?”

“Yes. I am ready!”

“…It may not be a pretty sight.”

Crack-!

As my answer ended, he clapped his hands with a smile. The dark space twisted, shattered, and began to transform into another realm.

Not a pretty sight, he says… What on earth happened that made him wear such a bittersweet and hollow smile?

Gulp.

Unknowingly, I swallowed my own saliva. What would my second self have been like? Not as the leader of the Skar Mercenary Company, but in another life altogether.

The shattered and broken space began to gather and coalesce once more, rising before our eyes.

I had expected a bright realm to emerge, just as it had the first time, with radiant sunlight enveloping me. Yet, the space that appeared was darker and more hollow than the shadowy realm we had just stood in.

Step—step—.

In the boundless silence and darkness, only the light sound of footsteps echoed loudly. Though they were soft, the absence of any other sound made them resonate with an unsettling clarity.

I thrashed about, desperate to escape the dreadful silence that loomed in this space, but the chains binding my body rendered me unable to move even a finger.

…I lowered my head to gaze at myself. Chains wrapped around me in layers, as if to say that no struggle would be permitted. Bound by these chains, I lay on a small cot like a corpse.

I turned my head. At that moment, I could not help but be startled. Dozens of children, all bound in the same position as I, lay on cots beside me.

And… their eyes were all vacant, devoid of light, as if they belonged to the dead.

A laboratory. Yes. This place is a laboratory. And those of us here, myself included, are mere subjects for someone’s experiments.

In the first instance, countless memories had surged forth. My birth, the fleeting days of my childhood filled with happiness, and precious moments—all of it.

But now, I could recall not a single memory. Someone flickered in my mind, but their face and voice were obscured, shrouded in a thick fog.

Thud.

At last, the incessant footsteps ceased. Rolling my eyes to look, I saw someone approaching and stopping at the cot on the far left of the vast laboratory.

‘…!’

And that figure was one I knew all too well. A black robe that enveloped them from head to toe. Deformed eyes and a logo etched with incomprehensible symbols.

…A dark sorcerer.

Despicable, deserving of death. I—no, we—were mere subjects for the dark sorcerer conducting the experiments.

Why? And why us? Countless questions swirled in my mind, yet, naturally, I could not open my mouth to voice them.

“…Initiating.”

“Subject 1. Commencing the experiment.”

As the dark sorcerer’s low voice echoed, a person with vacant eyes spoke in mechanical, clipped phrases.

The sorcerer performed some unknown act on the bound individual. That was… dark magic. It seemed as if he was injecting dark power into that person’s body.

Brrrrr…!

Boom—!

After the dark sorcerer injected the dark power and briefly stepped back, the person’s body began to swell grotesquely before bursting, leaving only a horrific stench in its wake.

“…Subject 1 has failed. Next.”

“Subject 2. Commencing the experiment.”

Even as a person exploded right before my eyes, the dark sorcerer did not blink, moving on to the next subject without a hint of hesitation.

And just like the person before, a man answers mechanically, his eyes hollow and vacant.

—Kkuaaah!!!

This time, a horrific scream reverberates through the space, and the man melts away, disappearing entirely.

Thus, the experiment continues. Some have faces twisted like rats, while others find their hands and feet grotesquely deformed.

“…Next.”

And finally, the dark sorcerer stands before my bed, looking down at me as he whispers softly.

“…Subject number eight. Commencing the experiment.”

Not even a thought of rebellion crosses my mind. Though my body is bound, like the others who have perished, I can utter nothing but the words, “I will begin the experiment.”

I am utterly powerless. Even as the sorcerer’s gnarled hand rises, I can only watch as the dark magic that springs from it heads toward my body.

What will become of me? Like the seven who were experimented on before me, will I also meet a terrible death?

A profound fear washes over me. Yet, I cannot blink. We are merely… mice, preserved and subjected to experiments.

But, contrary to my expectations, my body does not shatter, burst, or die. I remain unable to speak or move, yet I am undeniably alive.

“…Ho?”

And for the first time, a voice of admiration escapes the dark sorcerer’s lips. Moments later, I can only stare blankly as another dark sorcerer leads my bed away to some unknown destination.

“…What a dreadful sight, isn’t it?”

As my consciousness begins to fade, I feel as if my soul has slipped from my second body, and his voice reaches me.

He, who had always looked at me with a sly smile, now sends nothing but cold, sharp glances at the sorcerers walking below or continuing their experiments.

“What on earth… has happened? Why are the dark sorcerers…”

“…As you can see, it’s an experiment. To increase the ranks of dark sorcerers, experiments are conducted on both adults and children. I, too… was unfortunate enough to be captured here.”

“Then you…”

“Yes. I was unfortunate to be caught, but perhaps I was lucky to possess an aptitude for dark magic. Thanks to that… I managed to survive.”

I stare blankly alongside him at the laboratory we have left behind. The experiments continue, yet no one has survived but me.

So how… did ‘I’ manage to survive here, to live on unabated?

As such questions arise, I attempt to ask, but the space shifts faster than my mouth can open. Once again, I am pulled back from the perspective of an observer, returning to a first-person view.

“…One.”

Thud—!

“…Two.”

Crack—!

In the vast, dark clearing, countless people, including myself, strike, stab, or slice at the doll shaped like a human that lies before us, as the dark sorcerer’s voice echoes.

The parts we strike are the upper lip, the solar plexus, the space between the eyebrows, the location of the heart, and so on. Every part is a critical point, lethal to a human.

—

Not even a single second of respite was granted to us as we relentlessly continued our assaults aimed at the vulnerable points of humanity. Yet, none dared to rebel, nor did anyone refuse the commands.

No, it would be more accurate to say we could not. We were all slaves, shackled under the dominion of an unbearable dark magic.

“…Prepare.”

A low hum echoed…!

“…Release.”

After hours of grueling physical training, with no time to rest, we soon found ourselves engaged in the training to draw forth the dark magic.

Naturally, those of us still alive, myself included, possessed the potential for dark sorcery, and most could summon the dark power at the behest of the sorcerers. Yet, there were those who could not.

“…There are failures among us.”

And, as expected, the fate of those failures was nothing but death. I watched from afar as they burst apart, melted away, and twisted grotesquely in their dying moments.

This place is hell. We labored all day, striving to become the very monsters we never wished to be, without even gaining our freedom.

The only respite granted to us was a meager ten minutes for meals and a brief time to seek sleep. Even that was filled with rotting fruit, and our sleep was limited to a mere four hours.

Hope was nowhere to be found. We had become slaves to dark magic, unable to oppose those who ruled over us.

…But. In this space where everyone lived like machines, I alone could still think. Of course, I acted just as they did, but the ability to ‘think’ was what mattered.

As I carried out the sorcerers’ training, I eavesdropped on their conversations. It was hard to call it eavesdropping when they spoke loudly right before our eyes.

First and foremost, as I had suspected, we were all under the influence of a colossal dark power. After countless drug experiments, torture, and brainwashing, not a single one of us remained mentally intact.

Except for me.

I do not know why. Perhaps it was simply that I possessed far greater talent than the others, allowing me to think even if I could not act freely.

In this hell where no one was granted the will to rebel or the freedom to do so, I etched my own will among those who had become mere puppets.

No matter what, I would escape this place.