We're the Myth

CHAPTER 2: NINE YEARS

The sharp shift from heat to cold hit Nicolas like a slap.

Minutes ago, they’d been running through the humid training grounds, their uniforms clinging to their skin with sweat. Now, the sterile chill of the Bio-Status Lab seeped into his bones.

He rubbed his arms, muttering under his breath, “From a furnace to a freezer. Who designed this place? A sadist?”

Gabriel, walking just ahead, didn’t even look back. “Maybe if someone hadn’t murdered my alarm clock, we wouldn’t be freezing at this ungodly hour.”

Nicolas rolled his eyes. “You’re still on that? It wasn’t murder. It was… assisted retirement.”

Behind them, Ethan let out a small, confused laugh. “Wait, what alarm?”

Nicolas didn’t answer. Gabriel just shot him a look sharp enough to cut through the icy air.

The white halls stretched endlessly before them, lights humming faintly overhead. Every sound their footsteps, the soft hiss of vents felt too loud against the oppressive silence. Staff members in crisp lab coats and masks moved like ghosts, their shoes whispering against the polished floor. Sleek scanners flickered with pale blue light, reading everything: pulse, brainwaves, bone density. The place smelled faintly of antiseptic and cold metal.

When they reached a crossway in the corridor, Nicolas instinctively moved to follow Gabriel and Ethan. But before he could take a second step, a gloved hand landed lightly on his shoulder.

“Mr. Mitsui,” a woman in a white coat said, her voice clipped and professional. “This way, please.”

Nicolas stopped, caught off guard. “I’m with them.” He jerked a thumb toward Gabriel and Ethan.

“Not for this part.” Her tone left no room for argument.

Something in the way she spoke not deferential, but measured made Gabriel glance back. The woman’s posture was formal, and though her face was hidden behind a mask, her eyes softened briefly, almost like a quiet acknowledgment.

Nicolas exhaled through his nose, feeling that familiar weight settle on his shoulders. He glanced at his friends. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. Ethan gave a small, unsure wave.

Two more staff members stepped forward. Their movements were precise, professional. They didn’t bow or fawn, but there was a subtle shift like the way soldiers adjust when someone of higher rank passes.

“Sir,” one of them said simply, inclining his head with the barest nod of respect. Nicolas caught it instantly. It wasn’t the greeting of strangers. It was the greeting of people who already knew his name.

Without a word, he followed the woman down the narrower corridor. The sound of his friends’ footsteps faded behind him.

The hallway grew colder the deeper they went, the lights dimming to a softer, clinical glow. The staff here moved differently. They didn’t look at him as just another student they looked at him with an awareness that carried weight. A quiet recognition.

Nicolas shoved his hands into his pockets, his breath forming faint clouds in the air.

Meanwhile, Gabriel and Ethan were ushered into a bright, sterile examination room. Two beds faced each other across the spotless floor, a faint hum of machines filling the silence.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Ethan finally tilted his head toward the door Nicolas had disappeared through. “You know… I’ve always wondered. How old is Nicolas, really?”

Gabriel frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I heard from someone, maybe a senior, that he’s been at Diamond Campus for nine years.” Ethan leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. “Nine.”

Gabriel blinked and sat up straighter. “Nine years? That’s not even allowed. They don’t take kids here, not really.” He tilted his head, half-smirking. “What is he, a turtle or something?"

Ethan shrugged. “Maybe he’s older than we think. You know it’s possible… with the serum.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “The RH-Z stuff?”

“Yeah.” Ethan’s voice dropped slightly.“Regenerative Host Type-Z. They say it can slow aging make someone look the same for years, maybe decades, if their body accepts it.”

Gabriel let out a low whistle. “Even so… nine years? What’s the point of staying here that long? Is he really that weak?”

Ethan shook his head, eyes still fixed on the door. "I’ve known Nicolas for three years,” he said quietly. “He’s not weak.”

5 HOURS LATER

After their exams, Ethan and Gabriel waited in the lobby where Nicolas had been separated from them. Three long hours dragged by, each one heavier than the last.

"FU**** *******...." Gabriel finally cursed under his breath. " I wouldn’t wait this long for a girl let alone for that jerk."

Ethan shot him a sideways glance, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "That’s because you’ve never had a girl to wait for."

Gabriel snapped his head toward him. "Tch. Whatever. You two can stay here and pine for each other. The CCS is about to end"

( 2nd EXAM- CCS:Controlled Combat Simulation. A brutal, full-contact test held in the Arena, publicly known as the Diamond Sports Complex.)

Ethan suddenly tilted his head toward the far corridor, eyes narrowing. "I can see him now," he said quietly.

Gabriel didn’t even turn, his gaze fixed on the exit. “Great. I’m heading out. You both have legs..” he said, already stepping away.

“Well… I think he couldn’t,” Ethan replied, his voice carrying an edge that made Gabriel pause mid-step.

“Huh?” Gabriel frowned, taking a few steps back to see what had caught Ethan’s attention.