It hurt!
This was the only thought floating in her head.
Everything in her body hurt.
"Number 26 is showing adverse reactions."
"Incredible! For her to only show such a reaction now, how is it possible? No matter, adjust the operations."
Her hazy consciousness slowly woke up as pain flooded in.
*Beep !* *Beep! *
"She is waking up too soon! Who is the bastard that gave the anesthetic!?"
'What is happening?'
She tried to speak but she felt as if her mouth was too heavy to even open. She tried to move but all her limbs were bound.
"Send more dose! Now!! We can't afford to lose a specimen that reached the adaptation phase on the first operation."
'It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! Please! I beg you! Stop this!'
Her plea, unable to be voiced, came out as a guttural scream as she began to thrash around uselessly while trying to free herself.
Pain.
Fear.
Confusion.
Discomfort.
All those feelings mixed in her mind and made her delirious.
Because of the blindfold covering her eyes, she was unable to understand what was happening.
She just wanted everything to stop.
'Please, someone, anyone, please make it st..'
On those last thoughts, her mind fell back in slumber.
'How did this happen?'
Sitting in a white cell with her knees gathered under her, the young cowgirl asked herself with a somewhat empty expression.
Everything around her was white. Be it the ceiling, the walls or the door. Even the clothes she was wearing were white. What's more, her hands were bound by her clothes. The same went for her mouth.
This illusion of an infinite void was doing nothing good to her mind. She could only leave this place for more painful experiments.
Raising her head, she began to stare at the ceiling absentmindedly, thinking back to her past.
All her life had been filled with hardships.
As a war orphan, feeding her stomach and surviving the next day had always been the most important thing for her. She had no time to consider anything else.
Begging, stealing, being stolen from, running away from the guard. This had always been her life.
Back then, she wished to survive. Even though life was hard, she had a slight hope for a better future.
But now,
'I just want to die.'
She simply wished to put an end to her own misery.
Sadly, even death was being refused to her.
After she tried to suicide for the third time, they put her in this cell and made sure that she would be unable to harm herself.
"I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die."
Closing her eyes, she began to softly chant this plea; her words flowing like an unending curse.
For her, this place was hell on earth.
In the morning, she was injected with some unknown substance.
Afterward, she was taken to a laboratory room where they would subject her to different kinds of tortures labeled as experiments.
Just remembering this made her body shudder and she began to become nauseous.
*Cough* *Cough*
Bending down, her body wracked by pain, she began to barf on the ground what was supposed to be some nutritious liquid.
She had already stopped eating in the hope to die from hunger, but they still found a way to keep her alive with this.
Moving in order to lay down on her back, she once again began to stare at the ceiling with a hollow expression.
She had long since stopped hoping for anyone to help her. All hope in her had died long ago. As she was now, even a doll had a more colorful expression than her.
Closing her eyes as fatigue swept her fragile mind, she went into a sleep full of pain and agony, awaiting a new hellish day.
'How long has it been?'
She couldn't remember.
In the first place, this hell hole didn't allow them to see the light of the sun for all she knew, perhaps only a few days went past or perhaps a few years.
'Most likely a few years.'
As a cow woman, even though she didn't know much about her race because her parents died when she was too young, she at least knew the signs of them reaching puberty. She had to admit that even for her numbed mind, waking up with blood flowing from her nether region and milk out of her breasts had been somewhat shocking.
Currently, wearing a white skirt and white shirt, she was sitting in what appeared to be a classroom with other young children about her age, while scribbling on some paper that was supposed to grade them. A collar with the number 26 inscribed on it, around her neck.
The first time this test was done, many like her had been reticent, but a jolt had been enough to put most of them in order.
It seemed that those who abducted them didn't simply want to experiment on them, but were also trying to make them smarter.
History, Geography, Arithmetic, Diplomacy, Psychology, and many such things were always taught to them.
At the end of what seemed to be the day, they would receive a grading test. Those with the worst score were punished while those with the best scores were rewarded.
Even for her young mind, it didn't take long to understand that they were forcing them to become used to receiving orders.
It was a slow process, but sometimes, she was surprised to see some of her fellow prisoners act while thinking about how to please their jailers rather than fight back.
Flicking her pen, she closed her eyes and began to sleep.
Her papers, as always, were filled with enough mistakes to put her near the last position.
For her who wished to die, she had no need to receive the so-called reward. No matter how much they electrocuted her, compared to the pain of the experiments she received, this was nothing.
In fact, she wished for them to increase the punishment and accidentally kill her. What's more, one more failure like her meant one less person sent to be punished.
'How many of them are left now?'
She wondered sadly. Each day, the number of children around her slowly decreased. Children disappeared, and in their places, new arrivals steadily increased in number. Initially about fifty, they had decreased by half, only to be reinforced by fresh faces. Their numbers had even managed to increase to 200 without her noticing.
She would always have a sad expression when one of them vanished
For the other children, it seemed as if she was sad about their death. But this wasn't really the case.
While she mourned their deaths, what made her the saddest, was one simple thought.
'Why isn't it me?'
"Number 66, Number 12! Set forth!"
"Yes."
"Yes."
Following the voice coming from the ceiling, one boy advanced and stood with a wooden sword in his hand, his actions, mirrored by a young glasses wearing boy.
"Begin."
At the emotionless signal, the two simultaneously began to practice their combat forms. The children of the facility were all unnamed; only their assigned numbers were used.
The outcome mirrored a dozen of prior matches, a light faint which would be followed up with 66 swinging with all of his might. He swung repeatedly, making contact each time, and grazed the young number 12's head.
In that time, number 12 kicked him with great force and knocked him down. His sword was then quickly thrust to his throat and was followed by the order to stop.
"Number 12, well done."
"Thank you."
"But as for number 66, you're hopeless yet again. Your memory fails you, and your movements are dull. I'm telling you this for your own sake. What a failure."
"Apologies."
"Do you forget that the only reason you're alive is because of your adaptation to the experiments? By all accounts, it wouldn't be strange to say that it's too late for you to clean up your act."
"I understand."
How she wished to simply swing her sword and kill those people speaking above.
"Now then, salute."
This time, the voice was addressed to all the children present, and like a machine, they began to repeat the words that were specially made to indoctrinate them.
"We offer our greatest honors, and most heartfelt gratitude to his majesty Neptune the great!"
"We swear unconditional loyalty to the kingdom!"
"Death to those who would oppose our Kingdom! For that purpose, we are willing to become the swords in the darkness!"
What were they even supposed to be thankful for? Why did they have to swear their loyalty? The girl couldn't remember a single thing that could obligate them to dedicate their lives to that kind of cause.
In reality, shouldn't they rather hate him? Swear to kill him?
That's why, one new goal took hold in her heart.
She swore that before dying, she would kill the bastard that caused all their miseries.
As time passed, she found herself surprisingly making new friends while sadly losing old ones.
The boy number 144 for example was a good friend who always liked to tell stories to make the other children happy. Sadly, he slowly withered away and died. Until his very end, all he could do was moan in pain.
Number 167, who moved into number 12's old room was the girl who became her best friend. With a quivering voice and a face that always appeared about to cry, it was during this time that she managed to brighten up.
Number 66, another cow man like her, was a rather handsome and kind fellow. He always managed to make her laugh even when her mood was at its lowest.
Number 54 was a dark elf girl, clearly the oldest of them all, she would always comfort the other children and act as the big sister of the group.
Number 12, the glass wearing young man was a strong but shy fellow. Every day, he would cry in his sleep and beg for help. He thought that they didn't hear him, but they simply kept quiet to protect his fragile pride.
This was how her everyday life continued.
Thinking of dying yet being denied death.
Hoping to see her friends survive but yet having to watch them die.
Being taught to be loyal to a man she wished to kill.
She thought that this would never change.
Until one day…
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