"Go on," Doctor Finch said like a drunkard, leaning back in his rotating chair. "Ask anything."
Cyanide was dubious about whether or not he could actually trust this guy's information. Hell, he wasn't even human anymore. He was made of machinery, already having lost his life long ago.
Still, it's not like he had any other options. He decided to at least hear Doctor Finch out, since his theories did sound interesting if nothing else.
"Let's start with the basics, then," Cyanide said, grabbing a nearby chair of similar architecture to the Doctor's and sitting down in it. "What, really, is this place?"
"This place is my private lab, Aterra Headquarters, kid!" Doctor Finch laughed boldly, earning him a deadpan glare from Cyanide.
" You know full well what I an, old man. But if you're only going to make bad jokes like that I guess coming here was a waste of ti."
"Hahaha! I like you, kid," Doctor Finch said, then fell silent for several seconds.
"But are you sure you want to know?"
" Why? Will it be dangerous for if I discover this information?"
"Yes, boy. Very."
"Cool. My life's been dangerous since the day I was born."
Doctor Finch shrugged. "All right just don't say I didn't warn you. All the players I've told this information in the past were promptly eliminated. They control everything here. It is as easy as snapping their finger to kill you."
"Oh? I hate to say it, but I've never been one to leave my fate in another's hands. If they want to kill , so be it."
Doctor Finch glanced at him, then sighed. "Tell , boy. Why did you people from that other world co here?"
"All sorts of reasons," Cyanide replied, relieved that they were finally getting into a topic worth discussing. "Money, power, just like you said. And others, like , are just searching for a new challenge to take on. The final standing player of this survival ga can have any one wish of theirs granted."
Hearing this, Doctor Finch chuckled.
"Ha. It's all fake."
Cyanide furrowed his brows slightly. " What?"
"You're not the first ones to have co here, y'know. There were others in the past, who were also invited to co participate in this 'survival ga.' But do you want to know one thing they all had in common?" Doctor Finch smirked, revealing human-like teeth. " None returned."
" Not even the last one?"
"Not even the last one," Doctor Finch confird with a sinister smile. "Do you understand what this ans, boy?"
" They lied to us, huh?" Cyanide muttered. He had already been expecting this when he first was debriefed about the ga, but he had still ca here since the reward wasn't what he sought anyway.
"That's the less important part, kiddo. Think about it. Why would they bring so many people here into this survival ga, only to kill them off?"
"Entertainnt?"
"Perhaps. I'm not too sure of the reason myself. But sothing tells this entire simulation it's ho to a far grander purpose. That's not any of my concern thoughthat, is for you 'players' to figure out, haha!"
It would seem that even Doctor Finch didn't know everything. He had rely drawn conclusions based on the previous generations of players, many of which ca to see him the sa way Cyanide was doing now.
Judging from the dust settled on all the objects he had seen so far, however, the previous batch was probably quite a bit ago. Either that, or the world was just sohow reset into a clean state every ti this gathis simulationwas run.
But the problem was
" This place it's not really a simulation, is it?"
Cyanide's words were quiet. Cold, even. But they struck true within Doctor Finch's heart.
" You noticed from the very beginning, didn't you?"
""
"You noticed, yet you still ca here. Why, kid? All this, for a challenge? You're nothing but a player here. Everything is in control by the admins, the Gamaster. All of this. The apocalypse, the virus, it was planned by them. You are just a lowly pawn, one of many, and you want to disobey your king? This isn't a joke. You can really die."
"I'm well aware," Cyanide replied, mouth twisting up into a smirk. "But where's the thrill without the fear of death?"
Doctor Finch stared at Cyanide for a few monts longer, then sighed and shook his head.
" You're a crazy one, kid. Even more crazy than , heh."
"Hm. What's your goal now, Doctor Finch?" Cyanide asked, raising an eyebrow and expertly changing the topic. "Are you just sitting here all day, without aning and purpose?"
"What else is there to do? I'm not physically strong, even if I am a Stage Three Mutant now. Everyday, I'm reminded of my own unholy existence. I've tried killing myself before, but nothing will kill . After a while, I just gave up. There's nothing left of my old world. Nothing left of the man I once was. I am but an empty shell now."
"So?"
" What?"
"I said, so?" Cyanide repeated, folding his arms once more. "You may just be an empty shell now, but I can give you a new purpose. Help break out of this ga. Help defeat the Gamaster."
"Oh? And what rewards will I stand to gain by doing this?" Doctor Finch taunted, spinning around in his chair and swiveling a pen between his fingers. "Don't get cocky now, kid. I told you what little knowledge I knew about the truth behind this world, this ga, because you made laugh. Nothing more. Watch your boundseven if I am not that physically strong that is in comparison to the other Stage Three Mutants and higher in this city. I can still tear you apart, right here, right now."
Knowing full well he was stepping on dangerous territory, Cyanide continued undaunted.
"Don't bluff, old man. I know hatred when I see it. Many of my assassination targets had the sa look on your face when I murdered their allies," he said with a devilish smirk. "They followed soon after, of course," he added. "But that hate in your eyes isn't directed as . Instead it's the Gamaster, isn't it? You hate him for what he's done to your old world. To you. All for the sake of running this simulation for purposes still unknown to us."
After several seconds of hesitation and thought, the Doctor replied.
" And so what if I hate them? Ha! I don't care who you were back in your old world, but if you think you can fight back against absolute authority, you've never worked under soone before."
"Oh, trust , I have," Cyanide rebuked. "Ever since I was six, I've been working for a professional underground assassin agency known as the Nighthawks. But so what? I did what I wanted. The authorities tried to do sothing about it, but were strong enough to go against . Anyone who tries to control either ends up controlled by , or in a body bag. The Gamaster is no exception."
In text, Cyanide sounded haughty. Overconfident. But in reality, there was no arrogance in his voice. Only cold, hard, truth.
And in that mont, Doctor Finch saw. A terrifying look within this young adult's eyes, who seed to be 22 at best. Sothing colder, darker than anything the Doctor had witnessed before. Sothing that could only be manifested after thousands of kills. Sothing that could only belong to soone who saw life as a privilege that could be taken away at any given mont, not a right.
"If you don't wish to join , that's fine," Cyanide said, turning around so his back was facing Doctor Finch. "But just rember: this is your one and only chance to beco my ally. For the next ti we et I'll kill you."
The Doctor knew he was not bluffing. This was not an empty threat. A terrible feeling of dread creeped up the Doctor's chanical heart as he stared at the back of this frightening boy, as if he was seeing the Grim Reaper himself.
This boy was different from all the rest. Fate, Destiny, Gods and Angels, could control him. He was a wild, untamable beast, but also a cold and calculating assassin. He held his life in his own hands, and steered his own ship.
His na was Cyanide, raised to be the 'ultimate' human being.
And he did not let anyone roll the dice.
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