The guard scooped the lifeless boy into his arms and shut the cage with a heavy clank. Liam dropped to his knees. He couldn't move. He could only cry as the guard carried away the only friend he had left.
Hatred grew inside him, day by day. Every night, while the others slept, Liam stared into the dark, thinking about everything this place had stolen from him—the chance to learn control, the hope for a better life. And every night, he reminded himself: there was no way out.
Months passed. The older children died off, and new ones were dragged in.
Each time a kid died, the guards would shift the cages, pushing the others closer together. From the original group, only four were left. Liam. Murphy—whose jokes hadn't died with his hope—was in the cage below Liam's. Then there was the boy who'd lost his mind. And now Natalie. She'd just been thrown into the cage to Liam's right.
It was Liam's birthday. A full year in this cage.
"Happy birthday, brother!" Murphy called.
"Thanks," Liam replied with a weak smile.
He glanced at Natalie, who was watching them from the corner of her eye. "What are your specialties, Natalie?" he asked.
She snapped her head away, stiff and silent, pretending not to care.
"Murphy can move stuff with his mind. Telekinesis, right?" Liam said, peering down.
"You got it!" Murphy grinned, pressing his head against the bars.
"I can melt iron or steel," Natalie muttered, her voice sharp. Then she glared at him. "I know what you're doing. Making friends in here? What for? So you can cry over their bodies when they die too?"
Her jaw clenched, eyes burning.
"You're right. No point making friends here," Liam said, smirking. "But you can make them once you're out, right?"
Natalie scoffed. "Oh yeah? Let me guess—you want me to melt the bars? Won't work. They're not made of anything I can affect. Same with the door." She turned away. "I've tried everything." Her voice was low, bitter.
"What if I told you... You haven't tried everything?" Liam leaned back, a quiet confidence in his smile.
Hours later, the guard stood by the door, bored and half-asleep—until a heavy grinding noise snapped him alert. Something was bending, warping.
He rushed inside. The bars of the giant cage, where they once threw Luis, were twisted, wrapped in black vines that pulsed like they were alive. He looked around, confused. No alarms. No signs of struggle. Just the kids, staring back.
Liam sat on his bed, gripping his head, dizzy and dazed—his powers had never worked like this before. Not on command.
Before the guard could react, the wind howled through the room. He turned just in time to see a black vortex swirl open in front of the cage. It spun violently, growing, shifting. In an instant, it became a massive cloud of darkness—and then it pulled the guard into itself, erasing him from reality.
"Don't look at it! Turn away!" Natalie shouted.
The kids shielded their eyes.
"What is it?" Liam called out.
"It's an Obscure," Natalie answered, trembling. "It's like a black hole—but worse. It shapeshifts into your worst fear. Then it devours you."
She risked a glance. The cloud was gone. The guard was gone. Only the kids remained.
Natalie's eyes widened. "The keys—they're on the ground! It's gone!"
"Murphy, now!" Liam shouted.
Murphy focused. The keys floated, wobbling in the air before zipping to his cage. He grabbed them, unlocked himself, then Liam and Natalie. They split the keys and rushed to free the others.
One by one, the cages opened. The kids poured out, running for the door. Outside the room, a long corridor stretched ahead—flickering lights overhead, broken keys and rifles scattered across the floor like the place had been ripped apart by a storm.
They sprinted toward the exit. But then Liam froze.
Behind him came a sound—squeaking, cracking, too familiar to ignore.
"Liam, come on!" Natalie called.
"I know this sound." He turned toward it. "Go ahead. I'll catch up."
Drawn by something deeper than curiosity, Liam followed the noise down the corridor, turned a corner—and stopped.
A shadow moved toward him. Small. Human. It walked like a child.
As it stepped into the light, it took shape—his shape. Liam stood face to face with himself.
Confused, breath shallow, he stared at the mirror image. It didn't speak. Just watched.
Then—sharp pain. A prick on his neck.
His knees buckled. He collapsed, vision swimming.
Through the blur, he saw her: Samantha, smiling, a syringe in her hand.
"Looks like your worst fear is yourself, little boy."
Her voice faded as the numbness took over. His eyes closed. Everything went dark.
When Liam opened his eyes, his wrists and ankles were cuffed to a brick wall. The room was unfamiliar, cold. He was shirtless, his gaze fixed on his bound hands, when he heard her.
"Apply too much pressure to your veins, and the shock will burn through your skin and flesh," Samantha said calmly.
He didn't flinch. "Why didn't it kill me?"
"Because I told it not to." She leaned against the wall, unfazed.
"And why didn't *you* die?"
She smiled faintly. "Because she's my daughter. And she'd never kill her own mother."
Samantha slipped on her gloves and adjusted her glasses.
"Why keep me alive?" Liam's voice cracked—not from fear, but exhaustion. Maybe even hope that death would be an escape.
"Because *you* are what we need." Her tone turned sharp. "No more questions."
She walked out, heels echoing behind her.
Each day after that, she returned with her team, all wearing bulky suits and helmets. They'd inject him with something thick and cold, then force-feed him, stuffing the food past his lips like he was an animal.
The usual bowl of corn.
The injections changed him. At night, he couldn't move, but he felt everything—his body moaned and squirmed from the inside while the outside stayed paralyzed. His veins felt like they were stretching, muscles twisting as if something underneath was trying to break free.
Months passed.
Then one morning, he woke to find black vines creeping from the wall around his feet. He stared, breath catching—he didn't know when he'd done it, or how.
At that moment, the door opened. Samantha stepped in, saw the vines, and smiled.
"He's ready," she said. The guards moved in to release the cuffs.
Liam thrashed against the guards, black vines popped out of the floor and struck the guard approaching him, sending him hurling back.
Then another one, pinning him to the ceiling while his hand out stretched. But then someone drove a needle into his neck. Darkness swallowed him instantly.
He woke up choking, gasping for breath. Water clung to his skin, soaking his hair and lungs. He coughed hard, disoriented.
"You okay?" a voice called out.
Liam sat up, shaking. He was drenched. His head spun as he looked up—and froze.
"Liam!" the voice came again.
A man with dreadlocks stood over him, familiar eyes locked on his. The face—older, different—but somehow known.
Liam stared. "Murphy?" The word broke from him in a laugh and a sob. Tears rushed to his eyes. "Murphy!"
Murphy grabbed a towel from a rack and wrapped it around him. Liam was shivering uncontrollably.
"We're here to get you out," Murphy said, firm.
Liam turned to see a large tube behind him, shattered glass everywhere. "What is this place?"
"That thing?" Murphy nodded toward the tube. "You were inside it." He grabbed Liam by the shoulders. "But we don't have time."
They ran.
Bodies of guards lay crumpled in every corner. Alarms howled through the halls. Liam flinched.
"They're already on alert!"
"Don't panic!" Murphy shot back. "Just keep moving!"
They bolted into a branching corridor. Two paths. Liam started toward one—but paused. A mirror stood in the middle of the hall, catching his reflection.
"This way!" Murphy tugged him in the opposite direction.
They sprinted toward the next passage—just in time to see a shadow slithering around the corner ahead. A massive cloud, crawling through the air.
Murphy froze. "Oh no. We need to hide."
But Liam stepped forward. "No. I have a plan."
He shouted into the hall, voice echoing. "Come and get me!"
"Shit, man…" Murphy muttered. He knew Liam was up to something insane, but the thought of getting caught made his stomach drop.
The shadow picked up speed.
Murphy followed Liam down the side corridor—right where the mirror stood.
"Hide behind it!" Liam shouted, taking position in the middle of the hallway.
The shadow slowed, slithering closer.
"Tired already?" Liam taunted.
That did it.
The shadow surged around the corner like a storm unleashed, barreling toward him.
But when it reached the end of the hall, there was no Liam. No Murphy.
Only the mirror.
A scream tore through the corridor—a high-pitched screech, sharper than steel, louder than anything they'd heard. They clutched their ears as windows shattered, lights exploded, and the walls seemed to quake.
Then—silence. A heavy clank hit the floor.
Peeking out, they saw only a leash lying where the shadow had stood.
"You did it!" Murphy cheered—then slapped a hand over his mouth. "We still need to get out of here."
But Liam wasn't listening.
He was staring into a broken door window, frozen.
Murphy moved beside him and followed his gaze. Inside the room stood a tube filled with thick yellow liquid. A body floated inside it.
"What is that?" Liam whispered.
Murphy's voice dropped. "I think… they were cloning you."
The words hung in the air like a trap ready to spring.
Then came the pounding of boots on metal stairs.
Without another word, they ran.
Liam still couldn't believe it—he was escaping.
Every step toward the gate felt unreal, like a dream that could shatter any second. His heart pounded, terrified that something would drag him back. But then… he stepped into the light.
Freedom.
A convertible waited outside. A girl sat behind the wheel.
"In the car!" Murphy shouted.
They jumped in. Tires screeched as the car peeled away.
Liam glanced at the driver. She had a sharp bob—purple and pink streaks—completely different from how he remembered her.
"Natalie?"
She smirked and tossed a shirt at him. "Buckle up."
Liam pulled it over his head, sinking into the seat with a shaky breath. "Thank you… even if it took a year. Thank you."
Murphy and Natalie exchanged a quick glance in the mirror, puzzled.
"A year?" she said. "Liam… we've been trying to rescue you for upto *four* years."
Murphy leaned forward. "We made so many plans. Failed more than we want to admit. But this time—we found you."
Liam turned to him slowly, eyes narrowing. *How could this be?*