I looked at Evan.
Really looked at him.
My eyes burned with intensity as I pointed at my own chest.
"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.
"Why don't you kill me?"
My finger pressed lightly against my heart.
"You know bullets will still hurt me," I continued.
"You know they'll kill me."
Evan shook his head immediately.
"I can't," he said.
I frowned.
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned his head slightly and gestured toward the body on the floor.
I followed his gaze.
The corpse was changing.
Blue light seeped out slowly, dissolving flesh and bone into shimmering particles. The body broke apart without sound, rising and merging into the air until nothing remained.
In its place—
A tiny bottle rolled across the floor and came to a stop.
The liquid inside shimmered faintly.
Speed Potion — 60 Seconds
I froze.
The room went silent again.
From the phone on the floor, the commanding chief's voice rang out, sharp and arrogant.
"Hey, kid," he said.
"Whatever that potion is, you will hand it over to the government."
He didn't pause.
"For experimentation," he continued.
"This is for the greater good of humanity."
His words were polished.
But beneath them—
Greed.
Arrogance.
Ownership.
Evan couldn't sense it.
But I could.
I didn't know why.
Then I felt it.
A calm, steady presence brushing against my mind.
Nola.
Inside the beast-taming space, her voice echoed clearly.
Of course you can feel it, you big dummy.
I'm a cosmic bear, remember?
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Sensing the emotions of living beings is a piece of cake for me.
My expression stayed flat.
The panel flickered.
Sanity: 15%
The number rose quietly.
No warning.
No resistance.
The commander continued talking, unaware—or uncaring.
"This is bigger than you," he said.
"You'll cooperate whether you like it or not."
My fingers twitched.
Nola's voice cut in sharply.
Stupid master! she snapped.
Don't panic.
Her tone softened just a little.
Take the potion.
Temporary speed boost.
Sixty seconds is enough.
Run.
I inhaled slowly.
Then nodded once.
Not to them.
To her.
The phone crackled again.
The commanding chief's voice was sharp now, impatient.
"took it," he ordered.
"Take the potion and move. Now."
At the same time, Nola's voice echoed urgently inside my mind.
Master, take it!
It's only sixty seconds—use it and run!
I exhaled slowly.
The room felt heavy.
Not with fear.
With expectation.
Then—
Something shifted.
The familiar panel flickered into existence.
Sanity: 0%
Normal.
Clear.
The noise inside my head vanished all at once.
I looked up.
"I refuse," I said flatly.
The word hit harder than any shout.
Nola froze.
"But—master—" she started anxiously.
I cut her off gently.
"Nola."
My voice softened.
"Aren't you a cosmic bear?"
She hesitated.
"…Yes."
"No 'buts,'" I said calmly.
"If I can't escape this on my own terms, then I'm not worthy of being your master."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
Nola nodded.
Not reluctantly.
Proudly.
…You really are stubborn, she said quietly.
But I understand.
I turned my gaze to Evan.
Then to the phone on the floor.
"And you," I said evenly.
"I know what I did."
No excuses.
"I killed her," I continued.
"Mercilessly."
Evan flinched.
"But I refuse to desecrate or disrespect the corpse like that."
I bent down and picked up the small bottle.
"I'll take the potion," I said.
"But I won't drink it."
The commanding chief went silent.
"I'm going to bury her."
For a brief moment—
There was no response.
Then the voice returned.
Cold.
Flat.
The mask was gone.
"Capture this lunatic," he ordered.
Outside—
Boots thundered.
Metal clattered.
Weapons were raised.
Evan's face drained of color.
"Arin—" he started.
I straightened.
Still holding the potion.
Still calm.
The door shook as hands slammed against it from the other side.
And for the first time since entering the tower—
I wasn't choosing survival.
I was choosing who I was.
The door burst open.
Boots flooded in.
Guns rose instantly, black muzzles aimed straight at my chest, my head, my legs. Red dots scattered across the walls behind me.
I sighed.
Slowly, deliberately, I placed the potion into the beast-taming space.
No rush.
No drama.
Just… done.
"You know," I said quietly,
"killing people is easy."
No one moved.
I took a step forward.
"But this?" I continued, voice flat,
"this is harder."
I moved.
Not fast enough to blur.
Not slow enough to stop.
I grabbed the nearest rifle mid-raise, twisting it sideways as I drove my foot into the soldier's chest.
There was a dull, sickening crack.
The man flew backward, slamming into the wall, collapsing with a broken gasp. Ribs shattered. Breath gone.
I released the gun and stepped back instinctively.
Holding back.
Actually holding back.
That was when they fired.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Rubber bullets slammed into me like sledgehammers.
My shoulder exploded with pain. My side burned. My thigh gave out as another round struck it dead-on. Air left my lungs in a sharp, involuntary wheeze.
I staggered.
"…Tch."
Another impact hit my ribs. Then my arm. Then my stomach.
Not lethal.
But brutal.
My legs buckled, and I stumbled backward, crashing into the doorway of my room. My vision blurred at the edges, pain blooming everywhere at once.
I barely managed to stay upright.
The soldiers didn't advance.
They didn't need to.
My body trembled—not from fear, but from accumulated damage.
I backed into my room, one step at a time, bloodless but hurting everywhere. My breath came in ragged pulls, muscles screaming in protest.
So this was it.
Not execution.
Not mercy.
Control.
I laughed weakly.
"…Yeah," I muttered under my breath.
"This really is harder."
Behind my eyes, the panel flickered.
Not rising.
Not falling.
Just… waiting.
And somewhere inside the beast-taming space, Nola was silent.
Watching.
Learning.
They didn't rush me.
That was the worst part.
Once I stopped resisting, the soldiers moved in methodically—two from the front, one from behind. Cold metal snapped shut around my wrists, heavy restraints biting into my skin. Another set locked around my ankles.
Cuffs.
Thick. Reinforced.
Not for criminals.
For things.
"Head down," someone ordered.
A hand pressed hard against the back of my neck, forcing me forward. I didn't fight it. My body still ached from the rubber bullets, every breath reminding me how human I still was.
They walked me out.
Not escorted.
Paraded.
Neighbors peeked from half-open doors. Some stared openly. Others pretended not to look. Phones came out. Whispers followed.
That's him.
The tower guy.
Is he dangerous?
Humiliation burned hotter than pain.
I kept my eyes forward.
Inside the transport vehicle, they shoved me onto a metal bench and locked me in place with another restraint across my chest. The doors slammed shut with a final, echoing clang.
Darkness.
The engine started.
We moved.
No sirens.
No urgency.
Just wheels on asphalt and the low hum of authority doing what it always did best—containing problems.
Minutes passed.
Maybe more.
My head leaned back against the cold wall as the city sounds slowly faded. Buildings gave way to emptier roads. Streetlights grew farther apart.
Nola stayed silent.
She knew.
The vehicle slowed.
Then stopped.
Brakes hissed.
The engine idled.
I frowned slightly.
This wasn't a checkpoint.
No commands followed.
No doors opened.
Outside, I could hear wind.
Open space.
Roadside.
Someone spoke quietly up front. Too quiet to make out words.
I lifted my head.
Something felt… off.
Not danger.
Anticipation.
I smiled faintly despite myself.
"…So," I murmured to no one in particular,
"this is where it starts, huh?"
The transport stayed still.
Waiting.
And whatever was waiting for us—
Was already very close.