Swoop!
The door slid open. A man dressed in white quarantine clothing stepped inside, his helmet misted by the force of his own heavy breathing. The filtration system kept the fog from building up, ensuring visibility. Three others followed, clad in the same sterile suits, carrying medical equipment.
The man walked to the podium and faced the small crowd—teenagers, young boys, and girls—all with eyes lowered, anxious, terrified of being called. He tapped on an electronic notepad. On his back, the acronym WHO was emblazoned.
"Candidate numbers 443, 103, and 445—step forward," he commanded.
Two boys and one girl obeyed, shuffling forward. The man studied them briefly, then nodded to his companions.
"Follow me."
The children obeyed without question.
Outside, they were stripped of their white patient clothes and subjected to medical inspection. Needles pierced their arms, injections delivered, tests conducted.
"You know the drill," the man said, his voice cold but steady. "In case of low productivity or error, you will be replaced. I am not saying this to frighten you. The world needs you. You are our heroes, our hope. Failure is not allowed. Provide us with worthy samples."
The children nodded silently.
They were escorted to an elevator and vanished within.
Candidate 445 lifted his eyes to the sky. The brightness stung—he had never seen such vivid blue before. Around him stood older, imposing children. One stepped forward, the leader, and greeted him.
"Welcome to Sentinel Seven. What's your name?"
Candidate 445 hesitated. He knew the truth: he was here to replace someone. Names were forbidden. Existence erased. Memories deleted. Data wiped. They were hidden people, samples, nothing more. The correct answer was I don't know.
But instead, he spoke.
"My name is Renzou."
The leader froze, stunned. Then his expression softened into sadness. He knew what this meant—his results were low, and his time would come soon. Still, he smiled.
"Welcome. I hope you last longer."
To this day, Renzou has never forgotten that face—the boy who greeted him before being sent into the Tower, never to return.
Renzou sat on the high floor, looking down at his brothers. They waited for answers—answers about what they had seen earlier, about Maxwell. Was it going to happen to them too?
Renzou's palms were slick with sweat, his knuckles twisting until he clenched a fist.
"I was born in a facility with the acronym WHO. I don't really know what it stands for. But my mission has always been to monitor sample subjects and hand them over whenever they call."
Mikail nodded grimly, as if he had already suspected.
"Why?" someone asked. The crowd was too shocked to be angry.
"The trials aren't what you think," Renzou continued. "Those screams you overheard—they were the screams of our brothers, turning into Tall Men the moment they entered. There's no fight, no glory. It's just an experiment. When a subject fails, he's cast away."
Silence fell.
"Why did you do this?" Kaz demanded, his voice shaking with rage.
Renzou raised his eyes to meet theirs. "Everyone here is infected with a half‑prototype virus called AV—short for A‑Virus. It was taken from another source. Don't ask me what source—I don't know. All I know is that the world outside the facilities is in ruins, and they need a vaccine."
"So we're lab rats?!" Axel shouted.
"And you've been sending us to our deaths! Why was mapping needed then?"
Renzou's voice hardened. "The mission of a mapper is to collect samples and bring them back. The moment they enter the Tower, their memories are restored. Some go mad and never return. But those who do… they know it's for the better. Beyond the Tower, there is only death."
"You mean there's a place further?" another boy asked.
Renzou nodded. "There are other camps in this facility. I was sent here with two others. I don't know how they're doing, but I believe they're carrying out the same mission."
"Why tell us all this now?" Klein asked, his tone sharp.
Renzou's gaze locked on him. "Because… I think I will soon be replaced."
Klein and Mikail exchanged a glance, realization dawning.
"Wait… me?" Klein pointed at himself. Everyone turned to stare.
Renzou nodded. "I don't know why your memories were tampered with, but when you broke the no‑name disclaimer by giving a name, you made it official. You are my replacement."
"Nonsense," Klein snapped. He held up his palms. "I remember because I carved it in blood. I swore I would never forget my name."
A scar marked his hand, etched with letters. The determination was undeniable.
Renzou froze, realization striking him. Then he laughed bitterly.
"Shit. I messed up."
The egg had cracked. The truth was out.
He looked up at everyone.
"Well, now you know. This camp is nothing more than a lab base. All of you have been infected. All of you are being tested."
The crowd stared at him in silence, the weight of revelation pressing down like iron.
Pow!
Renzou stumbled into the muddy floor, rain soaking him through. It wasn't over—Kaz charged and began pounding him with fists. Others joined in, kicking Renzou mercilessly.
"Stop!" Mikail shouted.
The crowd hesitated, backing away, but Kaz kept punching.
"Okay, Kaz—stop!" Mikail's voice was sharp, commanding.
Kaz froze mid‑swing. Renzou, bruised and bleeding, stared up at him. Mikail understood Kaz's rage. Kaz had respected Renzou deeply, and learning the truth was painful. Even Mikail hadn't known this much—only that something was wrong in their bodies, and Renzou had been hiding it.
Klein stepped forward.
"So… what was the trial really about?" he asked.
All eyes turned to Renzou. He spat blood and mucus, wiping his mouth.
"They send names after a period of time. Those names belong to the ones whose bodies couldn't take it. The moment you fall sick—even once—it's over. You've failed. And today… two names showed up."
His gaze locked on two figures.
"Sorry, Axel. Bright. You've been called to the Tower."
The crowd erupted. Renzou was beaten again, dragged, and tossed into a crude cage. He sat inside, laughing bitterly at the situation.
Kaz wanted him dead, but Mikail stopped him.
"What if he dies, and the people outside find out?" Mikail warned.
Kaz cooled down reluctantly, turning his energy to calming Axel and Bright, who were frantic with fear.
Mikail paced back and forth, mind racing. Then Klein entered, carrying a set of gears.
"Where did you get that?" Mikail asked.
"In Renzou's tent. I had to search for a long time," Klein replied.
Mikail examined the suit. It was heavy, reinforced. He checked the hands and legs carefully.
"If you've found this, it means you're still resolute to enter the Tower," Mikail said.
Klein nodded. Then he paused, his expression darkening.
"I also found something strange."
Mikail's eyes narrowed. "Show me."
Together, Klein, Mikail, Kaz, Axel, and a few others entered Renzou's tent. Klein knelt, sweeping away the grass.
"What's this?" someone whispered.
Beneath the soil was an iron door, fitted with a security pass.
"Get Renzou here," Mikail said coldly. His voice carried weight.
There were still rotten secrets Renzou had hidden from them.
Renzou sat in the mud, staring up at the sky.
"What is the meaning of all this?" he whispered.
An hour earlier, he had received an emergency transmission: the base was under attack. Everything needed to be shut down temporarily, but the operation had to continue. There would be no trial. Instead, two samples were to be sent immediately. Names appeared on the order: 987 and 678—Axel and Bright.
The message explained that the base would now run on auto‑performance enhancement—no human interaction, fully AI‑controlled. Renzou read the note with dread. What power could disrupt WHO's operations? An invasion? The crumbling remnants of the UN? Or something else entirely?
Whatever the truth, he had to obey.
Later, another message arrived—anonymous, personal.
"Reveal everything the day a certain Klein shows up. Make sure he leads everyone to the Tower."
Renzou's heart pounded. What did it mean? Was the base compromised? Could the messages be false, a sham? Nothing was supposed to enter the camps from the outside. Yet he had no choice. He had to obey.
Two boys appeared, and Klein looked up at them.
"Get things ready," Renzou said, rising to his feet. He massaged his neck, then climbed out of the mud.
"For the hope of humanity," Renzou declared.
The boys nodded. "For the hope of humanity."
Then, without hesitation, they injected a stimulus into their necks before escorting Renzou to the others.