'-If the extermination of a species will not be total, it will likely return, immune to the previous threat...'
---
It was obvious from the start, since Lucian Vex would make sure he'd be the centre of everything he got himself involved in. Since he couldn't stand being associated with those beneath him. He wasn't like them, he kept telling himself, he wouldn't let himself be suffocated by the suppression of morals. He would shred his own skin, tear apart his soul to grow out of being considered to be formed of the same mettle.
This day, this sunrise, Lucian woke up at 5 am sharp. He would spend an hour admiring himself as he dressed, reminding himself of his worth. Then he'd spend the next two hours gruelling away at his morning schedule. Workout, train, meditate. Workout, train, study. This was his key to success. He knew he could do it, he would do anything if it meant being better than all else spineless that dared to lay eyes on him.
So, when, at 8 AM Lucius stepped into the classroom, he could take his seat and re-read notes from his independent studying.
He didn't like to learn in school. He preferred to do other things. School was just one long period of free time as long as he did all his work in the morning and on the weekends. He was already a few months ahead in all the content. No one could ask him something he didn't know. He was proud of that.
So, in that time, Lucius liked to watch.
And, one day, he thought he finally saw someone who wasn't another aphid clinging on the daffodils of his position. A new student, Kael Malevoleux, the boy with a grey streak of hair among the oak brunette mess covering his eyes. He wasn't composed. He wasn't noticeable. But he was different.
Lucius liked watching, and so he did.
Kael was only a few desks away from him, and he didn't bother to make a good impression, rushing to scratch black ink into his notebook, thin lines becoming a chaotic overlap of art and emotional expression. Bored. Kael was bored. But could he perform well if tested?
The teacher asked him a question on a topic that they learned last week, asking if he already knew it. Kael mumbled that he pre-learned all the year's content just in case since he was transferring.
Lucius's eyes darted. Could he possibly be of the same kind? He needed to know. He could use this opportunity. It would be only practical to win Kael over.
People detested Lucius but couldn't touch him. They knew he could defend himself better than anyone else.
But somehow, almost straight away, Kael was became the 'victim'. He was bullied. Humiliated. Or, rather, as soon as it started it had to end. Because Lucius couldn't stand his future ally to have a low self-esteem because of some pests.
- "I think I know what you're like."
Lucius's first statement to him was bold, challenging. Kael barely raised his head. But just a moment later, his mind had been changed when Lucius placed a few bank notes on his desk.
- "I work part time at the nearby university's laboratories after school. Come join me. I need an ally to help me out with running the tests."
Silence.
- "Why should I?"
- "It pays well. And they'll take you. You're different enough. Knowledgeable enough. Your relatives or whoever will like it. It will look good on your resume. You can only get in by a recommendation or a lot of hard work. I'm willing to recommend you. So if you'd like to-"
- "I. I get it! Quiet."
Lucius smiled. He was starting to consider making him his friend. It would be worth it.
He sat next to him. The seat was empty, of course it was, since their classmates wouldn't stop making fun of him.
- "If you say yes, you'll be sure to have a good future."
- "And why is that?"
- "I think you're worth my attention. I'm simply investing."
- "Seems you have a good eye."
And so, the both of them came into a sort of partnership. Little did Kael know, Lucius was going to bring all those unworthy of bearing a heartbeat down, and he would have a front row seat to the destruction.
---
Alright — I'll make this a long, layered, and unsettling scene that's visceral in its detail, loaded with subtext, and built on mutual recognition rather than warmth.
Lucius and Kael will surprise each other in subtle ways, piecing together an understanding of the other's nature without saying it outright. The friendship forming here will be entirely transactional, born of usefulness and respect for capability, not empathy.
---
After school, the laboratory was alike to an emptied cathedral.
Cold light spilled from ceiling panels in a sterile flood, too white to be natural, too steady to breathe. The hum of refrigeration lined the air with a static edge, and the metal tables reflected every movement with a soft, warped ghost-image.
Lucius didn't wait for Kael. He moved straight to the cages under the surgical lamp, snapping on gloves with the kind of precision that suggested he had never done it slowly in his life. The rats huddled in the far corners, their pale fur twitching like wind-ruffled grass. The scent of disinfectant fought a losing battle against the animal musk.
Kael arrived quieter, but not hesitant. He closed the door without glancing at the animals, went to the supply cart, and opened the second drawer. Inside: blister packs of syringes, glass vials glowing faintly amber in the overhead light.
Without being told, he began filling the first syringe.
Lucius glanced once. "You remember the dosage."
"I remember everything," Kael said, capping the needle.
---
Lucius pulled the first rat from its cage. It kicked in small, hopeless arcs; claws scratched his glove, but he didn't adjust his grip. His fingers pinned it to the table, thumb on the ribcage, feeling the stutter of its breath.
Kael slid the syringe toward him, point first, a gesture halfway between offering and challenge.
Lucius took it without thanks, without looking away from the rat's glass bead eye.
The needle slid in clean. The animal jerked once, and Lucius held it still until the tremors passed.
Kael was already writing — dosage, specimen number, time — his handwriting narrow, angled, disciplined. Not the kind of script a teacher would praise. The kind that wastes no space.
---
They fell into a rhythm:
Lucius — select, pin, inject, observe.
Kael — load, hand over, record, watch.
It was not equal. Lucius set the pace, exacting as clockwork. Kael matched it perfectly, never slowing him, never hurrying him.
Halfway through the second cage, Kael asked, "Do you ever wonder what it feels like for them?"
Lucius didn't pause. "It's irrelevant. The outcome is the same."
"That's not what I asked."
Lucius's smirk was small and sharp. "I prefer to imagine they feel everything."
Kael looked up from the clipboard. His eyes didn't soften; they sharpened. "Then you're thorough."
---
Lucius restrained the next rat longer than necessary after the injection, feeling its ribs slow beneath his thumb. Kael noticed, but didn't comment. Instead, he prepared another syringe, slightly overfilling it by a fraction of a milliliter.
When he handed it over, Lucius caught the difference instantly. His gaze flicked to Kael's face.
"Testing me?"
Kael tilted his head. "Would it matter if I was?"
Lucius injected the animal without hesitation. "No. It doesn't change the result."
Kael made a small note on the page — not about the rat.
---
By the time they reached the last cage, the air in the lab felt heavier. The small sounds of claws on plastic, the occasional squeak, were a backdrop to something else: the unspoken calculus running between them.
Lucius set down the final empty syringe, gloves speckled faintly from where the rats had bitten or scratched against them. "You adapt quickly," he said.
Kael stacked the clipboard on the counter. "You expect control. I expect competence. We both got what we wanted."
Lucius studied him, surgical light bleaching the color from his eyes. "And if I wanted more?"
Kael met the look without shifting. "You'd have to earn it."
Lucius's smile was thin, almost unreadable. "Fair."
---
They cleaned in silence — Kael wiping the counters, Lucius replacing tools in perfect alignment. When the last of the cages was covered, Lucius stood in the doorway, holding it open.
Kael passed him without a glance.
But in the reflection of the glass wall, Lucius watched him.
In Kael's measured stride, in the way he didn't ask questions, Lucius saw something rare: a person who could be kept close without being possessed.
In Lucius's steady hands and unbroken stare, Kael saw something equally rare: a person who would use him without apology, and without insult.
They understood each other in that moment.
And for both of them, that was enough to consider this dynamic a potential for the origins of something bearing the resemblance of alliance.