ACCIDENTALLY HIS LAB EXPERIMENT

CHAPTER 13: SECOND ATTEMPT

The training pit smelled like antiseptic and failure.

Virek had replaced Vant. That was the first sign it would be worse.

“Dr. Vant is on facility lockdown,” Virek announced at 0800. Steel voice. No preamble. He stood where Vant stood last night. Same center spot. Different energy. “Kade’s orders. Standard Helm calibration resumes today.”

Selene sat on the concrete edge. Hair still damp from med bay. Blue dots at her ears dimmed to gray. No glow. No sound. Just a headache that felt like someone drilled into her skull and forgot to take the bit out.

The squad lined the ring above. No Vant this time. No Cael. Vant was “in lockdown” and Cael was “on restriction” after the equipment room.

Only Jaren stayed close. Not in the ring. At the bottom edge of the pit, three steps below her. Shoulders squared, eyes on Virek instead of her. Like a wall.

“Again,” Virek said. He held the Helm. Not the cracked one Vant used. A new unit. Black. Clean. No fractures. No mercy. “We don’t have time for broken tools.”

Selene didn’t look at him. She looked at Jaren’s back. He’d been watching her since breakfast. Since she dropped her tray and every sound in the cafeteria became a knife. He hadn’t said anything. Just moved. Sat at the end of her table. Became a shadow.

“Step forward, subject,” Virek said. Subject. Not Selene. Not Thorn. Subject.

She stood. Bare feet on cold concrete. Vant’s rule, but Virek liked it too. “Feel everything. Escape nothing.”

The Helm clicked on. 30% input. Clean. Sterile. No Vant to twist the dial. No one to crush it if she broke.

Sound flooded in. Vent. Lights. Virek’s heartbeat. 84 bpm. Fast. Excited. He wanted her to break. Wanted data.

Pain hit like a train. She gasped. Gripped the Helm straps. Blue dots flared. Not control. Panic.

“Filter it,” Virek said. “You did five seconds last night. Do it again.”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

`Too much.`

Her knees buckled. Blood hit her lip before she tasted it. The Helm screamed feedback. Virek didn’t move to stop it. He watched. Taking notes.

“Pathetic,” he said. “Vant wasted 48 hours on you and you still can’t last ten seconds.”

The word hit harder than the sound. Pathetic.

Selene remembered being 12. Stepfather’s voice after she dropped a glass. `Pathetic. Like your mother.` She’d learned to cry quiet then too. Learned that tears didn’t stop fists.

She pressed her palms to her eyes. No one was watching, right? But Jaren was. He took one step forward. One step closer to Virek’s line.

“Again,” Virek said. “40%. No excuses.”

The Helm dial turned. Pain doubled. Selene screamed this time. Couldn’t help it. Sound ripped from her throat like glass.

Above, Mira covered her mouth. Torven’s and Oris turned away. Reyl’s disc hummed but he didn’t move. No one was supposed to interfere.

Jaren moved anyway.

He stepped between Selene and Virek. Back to her. Face to Virek. 19 years old and he’d become a nightmare once. He remembered how.

“Stop,” Jaren said. Quiet. Not loud. But steel.

Virek smiled. “Step back, asset. You’re not cleared for this test.”

“She’s bleeding,” Jaren said. “Data isn’t worth a brain bleed.”

“Vant’s orders don’t apply when he’s locked down,” Virek said. He reached past Jaren for the Helm dial. “40%.”

Jaren caught his wrist. Not hard. But enough. “I said stop.”

The pit went silent. Even the wind stopped howling for one second.

Virek’s eyes went cold. “You want to be restrained too, boy?

Jaren didn’t let go. “I want her to live.”

For three seconds no one breathed. Then Virek twisted his wrist free. Snapped the Helm off Selene’s head. She collapsed forward. Jaren caught her before she hit concrete. Same way Vant had. Same way no one was supposed to.

“Test failed,” Virek said. Flat. “Subject S cannot handle Helm input above 30%. Log it. Humiliation complete.”

He walked out. Heels echoing. Mission accomplished.

The squad stayed frozen. No one moved until Virek’s steps faded.

Then Serath appeared. She hadn’t been in the ring. She’d been in the hallway above. But she came down the stairs now. Slow. Heels clicking.

“Oh dear,” she said. Sweet voice. Ugly eyes. “That was... messy.” She stopped two meters from Jaren and Selene. Exactly two meters. The radius Cael used. The distance Vant used.

She tilted her head. “Let me help.”

Her hand flicked. Fast. A pulse of Entropy. Not at Selene. Near her. “Accidentally” grazing the air two inches from Selene’s left ear.

Time hiccupped. Selene’s ear went hypersensitive instantly. No Helm. No warning. She heard Serath’s pulse jump. Heard the lock on the door above age 20 years in 1 second. Heard rust bloom.

Pain shot through her skull like lightning. She jerked in Jaren’s arms. A sob escaped. Not quiet this time. Loud. Broken.

Serath gasped. Fake horror. “Oh! I’m so sorry! My control slipped. Are you alright, Little Thorn?”

Jaren stood up with Selene in his arms. Shaking but not dropping her. “Get away from her.”

Serath smiled. “Just testing if she’d break without Vant’s hand-holding. She does.” She turned to leave. Paused. “Tell Vant I said hi. From lockdown.”

She left. The door aged another 5 years behind her.

Jaren carried Selene up the stairs. Past the squad. Past Kade who came running too late. Past everyone who watched but didn’t move.

In the hallway, he stopped. Set her down gently against the wall. Not in med bay. Not yet. Just... away.

He crouched in front of her. Eye level. His hands were steady when he offered her his sleeve.

“Here,” he said. “For your face.”

Selene took it. Pressed it to her nose. Blood. His blood. He’d bitten his own lip to stay quiet while she screamed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m pathetic.”

Jaren’s jaw tightened. “No. You’re not.” He glanced at the empty hallway where Serath left. “Virek wants you to think you are. Serath wants you to think you are. That’s how they win.”

He reached up. Not to touch her. Just close. His fingers hovered 2cm from the blue dots at her ear. Like Cael used to. Like Vant did.

“You lasted 8 seconds at 40%,” he said quietly. “Vant only got you to 5. That’s not pathetic. That’s war.”

Selene stared at him. This boy who’d been a nightmare. Who now became a wall.

“Why?” she whispered. “You don’t have to—”

“Because someone should’ve done it for me,” Jaren said. Simple. Final. “When I broke. No one did.”

He stood. Offered his hand. Not to pull her up. Just to hold. In case she fell again.

Down the hall, the aged door creaked. Upstairs, Kade shouted for medics. Somewhere in lockdown, Vant would be listening. And somewhere two levels up, Cael would be hearing all of it.

Selene took Jaren’s hand. Not because she was weak. Because for 8 seconds at 40% she hadn’t been alone.

And that was worth more than winning.