Chapter Text
In the cold, dim hallways of a laboratory, a lone man ran for his life.
His movements were uncoordinated, the effects of the mysterious drug that had been injected in his body earlier serving to impair him. Despite his exhausted breaths as he tried to make his escape, he was barely breaking a sprint, too overwhelmed by fear to compose himself.
He cried out when he clumsily tripped over a metal device of sorts, scrambling to get back on his feet, but just as he reached the end of the hallway to turn the corner, a familiar figure emerged. He stopped dead in his tracks.
Add stood before him, perfectly poised and relaxed.
The doctor was unamused. He quite enjoyed toying with the psyche of his test subjects, but he was beginning to tire of this game. It was time to put an end to it to move onto the next. “How many times do I need to say it’s pointless to run?”
The test subject in question only gave a trembling whine in response. Add stepped forward, the man stepped back. Then he whipped around to make another run for it.
In that instant, Add had disappeared—then reappeared directly in front of him, briefly illuminated by the light of the device on the floor. He grabbed him by his hair and kneed him in the face, the sickening crunch echoing down the hallway as the contact broke bone, and then kicked him back. The subject sobbed, reaching up to cover his freshly broken nose. Add walked over and knelt in front of him.
“You have quite the listening problem. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.” He tapped his own temple. “Are you gonna stop delaying the inevitable, or do you need me to drill it in your head?”
The man understood he meant that literally and frantically shook his head.
“Good,” Add said with a smile. He stood up. “You’re finally learning.”
He looked over at the drops of blood that had stained the pristine white flooring. How troublesome. This test subject, who hadn’t even so much as completed a single trial, had left a mess in the hallway.
No matter. His staff would clean it up as usual. He could always release his irritation upon him later in the operating room if he deemed it necessary.
The subject on the floor had begun to slowly crawl away pitifully, his hands smearing even more blood about. Add rolled his eyes in exasperation and sent one of his dynamo over to inject itself into his neck. When he went limp, Add grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to drag him back from whence he came, droplets of blood trailing behind.
It was a fool’s errand to try to outplay him at his own games when the odds were always in his favor.