4 Chapter 3

S301

Kills: 0

Credits: 94

Days remaining: 284

Subjects remaining: 298

Lying on my back in the main hall of the caverns, I pull out my lacrima and finally see what I'd feared for so long. 81 days into the experiment, and the last number on my lacrima has finally changed.

The killing has started.

Not only has first blood been drawn, but three people have been killed. Just as I thought, once it starts, the dam will be broken and the flood will start. This place will fall into chaos soon.

Looking around the room, I can't see any signs of the killings, but everyone I see is fearfully looking around themselves as well. Even if this place doesn't fall into chaos, it's already a hellscape.

Everywhere I look is filled with emaciated children. Some have fallen sick, but most are only severely malnourished. Without an adult's intelligence to assist them, very few were smart enough to ration out their food. They saw that they had hundreds of credits and thought that they could buy food whenever they got hungry.

By the time they realized the problem, it was too late. Around a month ago, the ones who were frivolous started to only eat every other day to make up for it. In extreme cases, they only ate every two days. Those kids are now at risk of keeling over and dying all on their own. It's entirely possible that the three deaths were a result of that, rather than murder.

I've been spending my credits to stay healthy being put above all else, so I'm in better condition now than most. I've been buying one bowl of soup daily for 3 credits. Early on I spent 3 credits on a tube of toothpaste that I've hidden in my clothes and have been using once a week, and I spend 5 credits every 30 days to shower.

This may be seen as wasteful, but seeing the kids getting sick and diseased in here, I want to make sure that my body stays healthy. If I survive the year but contract a lethal disease, it would be meaningless.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of a scream. Not a scream of fear, but a feral scream of rage. On the other side of the hall, one of the older kids just tackled someone who came out of a tunnel.

"You killed them!" His voice echoes into all our ears as nearly 300 children silently observe the scene. "How could you?! Weren't we gonna survive this together?!"

"What else was I supposed to do?! They were dying anyway?!" The younger boy shouts from under him. "If they're gonna die anyway, they may as well help me survive this! We knew it was going to happen, if you don't want to die then somebody else has to! What's wrong with wanting to live?!"

His voice resounds through the hall and slips into the children's minds, even as his friend rains punches down upon him. Everyone here has thought this at some point, but until now everyone turned away. Everyone denied it.

The rhythmic thumps of fists on flesh continued for several minutes, turning the gears in everyone's heads towards forbidden thoughts, ideas that should never be considered. Eyes began to turn towards the sick and the dying.

Subjects remaining: 297

Even after my lacrima showed the boy's passing, the thuds didn't stop. Instead, a wet squelching noise began to accompany them and the sounds of children retching up precious nutrients came from those closest to the scene.

My hand moved to the hilt of my knife and my eyes darted between those closest to myself. The tension in the air is palpable, everyone is waiting with bated breath to see if somebody else will make the first move.

My luck fails me when the first to move turns out to be from a blond girl not 20 feet away from me. All eyes turn to her as the bone-thin girl who can't be more than 8 years old, the girl who should be playing dress-up and laughing with her family, wraps her hands around the throat of another girl and squeezes. The girl below her is already too weak from sickness to resist.

Nobody moves. Not a sound is made by either child. The world is still for a moment, then everything goes into motion.

No, I realize, all the children are still unmoving. I'm the one in motion. Without thinking, without considering my actions, I charge at the pair of girls, moving faster than I ever remember moving, old body or new.

It feels like I'm not the one in my own body's driver seat when I sink my knife into the throat of an 8-year-old girl.

S301

Kills: 1

Credits: 147

Days remaining: 284

Subjects remaining: 296

It feels too simple.

As the child's body crumples to the ground, I feel conflicted more than anything else. I stand there in a daze as the room is thrown into action and conflict erupts all around me.

Killing somebody, taking a life, it feels like there should have been more to it than that. There should have been more resistance. Some kind of punishment should have happened to me. I should be feeling something. Nothing of the sort happens.

… People die surprisingly easily.

I was tackled from behind as punishment for getting lost in my head, dropping my knife. A boy much older and much bigger than me on top of me with his hands around my neck. My hands slap about and my legs kick in a panic, but I can't get him off me. I'm too small and weak to buck him off my hips. His crazed blue eyes stare down at me as he blocks the air from my lungs.

I don't want to die!

Specks of light fill my vision and a dull ache fills my head.

I don't want to die!

My struggles grow weaker and black splotches cover my vision.

I don't want to die!

The boy is tackled off me and I gasp for air between a flurry of coughs. My gaze traces the ground until I find my knife. Knife firmly grasped in hand, I look up to see what happened.

Blue eyes look down at me and a hand is outstretched towards my face. Panic fills my body and I act on my instinct to survive.

"Are you oka*cough*" My arm flies out and my knife stabs the throat of the perceived threat?

When clarity returns to my eyes there is a corpse falling forward on top of me and my assailant from before is getting up and preparing to attack me again.

Sanity doesn't return to the children until the next day when the physical and mental exhaustion has peaked and the adrenaline rush has passed. The survivors go their separate ways and sit in silence, some buying rooms for protection, most just collapsing in some random spot in the hall.

Even when the fighting is over I don't know if I can say it's true that sanity returned though. I'm not sure if any of us are sane anymore.

My fingers trace the backside of my knife, as they have been for the past hour. I'm too scared to look at the lacrima in my pocket. I tell myself that I don't want to see how many children died, but I know that's not the truth. I don't want to see proof of what I've done.

I killed those kids to survive. It was self-defense. Justified.

I've been forcing myself to believe that I had no other choice, that I killed for survival, not benefit. I tell myself that, but if I take out my lacrima there will be no denying that I've benefited from killing others.

It might be the most sinister part of this whole test. The clear fact is that there are rewards for killing others. In this test, that is an undeniable fact. I can't help but question if I really had to kill those kids, or if I just wanted their credits. The worst part is that somewhere inside of me is a voice saying that there was nothing wrong with what I did, saying "What's wrong with killing before you're killed?".

With a deep breath, I sheathe my knife and put it back in my waistband. I finally muster up the courage to take out my lacrima.

S301

Kills: 6

Credits: 463

Days remaining: 283

Subjects remaining: 223

78 deaths in a single day. I doubt it will ever be that bad again, that was the opening ceremony on the pandemonium here. Now that the mob chaos of the first conflict has passed, the killing will become an occurrence that everyone here is used to. There won't be any more big free-for-alls, but there will probably be a couple of deaths every few days.

My lacrima shows me that I'm personally responsible for 1/13th of that number. Even if the night passed in a frenzied blur, I can clearly remember every one of them.

The blonde girl's wide blue eyes when my knife pierces her neck. The girl I saved died shortly afterward, her points falling to nobody.

The look of betrayal on the face of my savior whose blue eyes sent me into a panic when his throat was stabbed through. His act of selfless kindness cost him his life.

The feral snarl on the face of the boy who nearly killed me, even as my blade sunk and twisted into his side. Not even fear of death overcame the madness this place drove him to.

The tear-stained face of a young girl, 6 years old at the oldest, who ran at me with my knife after I'd lost it. I tackled her and forced it into her chest from above, even as her hands were still wrapped around the hilt.

The dark-skinned brother and sister who surrounded me, but both died of a stab in the neck. The brother was too scared to attack when his big sister did and only charged me after being overcome with rage at the sight of his sister's death.

Six children were killed and yet their lives were valued at only a couple months of survival in this hellhole. If I cut down on my expenses and forget about maintaining my hygiene and health, I would still need to find another 100 or so credits at least to survive.

Maybe if I was some genius protagonist with all the answers, I could think of something else. Maybe if I had the help of fate and plot armor like the Fairy Tail main cast, I could find another way out of here that doesn't require me to become a monster. Unfortunately, as I am I can only think of one way to survive.

I will have to keep killing people.

It's been three days since the blood bath. The stench of death is thick in the air. Bodies are littered about the area, and nobody bothers to move them from the spot they were killed at. They mix with the feces and puddles of piss and vomit to give the entire cave system a rancid odor.

Nobody has been killed since then, but I fear we will all die from the disease if this keeps up. I'm about to do something despicable, but I have no choice. I have to survive, and I can't afford to waste 50 credits.

I approach the youngest-looking kid I can find, a boy who looks no older than 5. He's on the verge of death and seems half delirious.

"Hey, I got this for you," I hold up a cup of water. "Are you okay?"

"Who… are… you?" His voice is hoarse and weak. I'm getting worried that maybe he doesn't have enough life in him to do what I need.

"I'm Cyrus," I respond in a gentle tone. "I want to help you. You're going to be okay. Here." I help him sit up against the wall and slowly put the cup to his lips.

He takes a long time to drink, but even once he finishes the cup, he looks no better than before.

"I'm… Hatz… Thank… you." His eyes are struggling to stay open.

"Don't worry Hatz, I'll help you from now on." I fill my voice with confidence, trying to sound like an adult. "I'll bring you food and water every day! We'll be like family."

"... Really?" He looks up at me and I can see hope in his eyes. I quickly avoid meeting his gaze and look at his mouth instead.

"Promise!" It needs to be done. "I just need you to do one thing for me."

"... Ok." He fidgets a bit and cuts me off before I can continue. "Can… I… call… you… big… bro?"

"... Hmm, how about this? I'll be your big bro, but first, you need to come with me and do what I say real quick." It's necessary, don't think about it. He would have died on his own if you didn't do this anyway.

"... Yep!" Hatz smiles at me and struggles to stand up with my support.

I lead him down the tunnel, but the whole trip is in silence. He is spending too much energy walking to be able to speak, and I'm too guilty to talk. After a painfully long trip, we come to a halt in front of the last door in the tunnel.

"Now," I put my hands on his shoulders and look Hatz in the eye. "I'm going to knock on the door, and when they answer I need you to say that you want to buy the cleaning. Can you do that for me?"

"... Yep!... Got… it… big… bro." With his confirmation, I immediately knock on the door before he can back out.

A robed man answers and wordlessly looks down at us.

"... I… want… … buy… … clean'n." Hatz barely gets out the sentence. He spoke so quietly that I was worried the man didn't hear him at first. Then he pulls out a clipboard and a pen and begins writing.

"Men will be sent here in an hour to clean the entire test location. Wind magic will also be used to clean the air. The process will take about three hours after it begins." With that, he retreated into his room and closed the door.

Behind the door, I could have sworn I heard him mutter, "Damned brats reek. Why the hell is staying here my job?"

"... Big… Bro." Hatz returns my attention to him by weakly tugging on my shirt.

I look at him, pull out my knife, and gently slit his throat.{N: 😱 }

"Sorry Hatz, but there was no way you would last more than a few more days. Best to kill you now so your corpse can get cleaned up with the rest of them. It's all for the sake of my survival."

Even as I spoke, I felt something disappear. There was something that I had been barely holding onto. Something that had been being chipped away at ever since dad was killed and this test was designed to strip it away. I know in my heart that something is now completely gone, maybe for good.

When I checked, I had gained 4 credits.

S301

Kills: 33

Credits: 12

Days remaining: 1

Subjects remaining: 14

I check my lacrima for what will likely be the last time. I doubt there will be any changes from this point on.

Looking around the barren hall, I can see a few scattered corpses of those who couldn't last through the last couple of nights. The survivors are spread out with as much distance between one another as possible. Every single one of them is hardened and calculating. The type who would do anything to ensure their survival. Not the type of person who you would trust sleeping next to you.

Of everyone here, I'm the youngest and smallest by far. The rest are all on the older side of the spectrum, even the smallest of them is a black-haired girl who looks around 9 or 10. Despite this, I wouldn't be surprised at all if I was told that I have killed more subjects than any of them. Maybe even by double!

That said, it can't be helped. Nobody else ever thought to purchase a cleaning of the caves, so whenever the bodies began to pile up, I had to do it. Even if I often found someone else to do it, I had to personally take the expense several times. I had to have had the place cleaned at least a dozen times if not more.

That's 600 credits! Not all of it came from my pocket, but a large enough portion that I had no choice but to be active in regaining them. It was all a necessary sacrifice to ensure my survival.

Most of my kills came from picking off the sick and the dying, but a sizable portion came from fending off attackers. By appearances, I'm the weak link here. The weakest link. Pair this with the fact that I never looked like I was pressed for credits and you get some juicy-looking prey.

Luckily, even after the fighting began, most kids weren't willing to cough up the credits to buy a knife and I managed to drive home why that was a bad choice on their part. Incidentally, all of the remaining 14 subjects have one. Whether they bought it or looted it from a corpse I don't know, but I do know that it's the reason they are still here.

There's not a single one of us who hasn't faced death over and over again, both the deaths of others and our own.

All 14 of us sit in a stalemate, nobody making any moves and everybody on full alert. Not one of the survivors is naive enough to relax just because it's the last day.

I pull out my knife and spring into a ready stance when my eye catches movement in the center of the hall.

"Congratulations on surviving the testing period." Brain is standing there slowly clapping his hands together. "14 subjects is a satisfactory result. You have all proven that you have at least the most basic qualities to be made into proper weapons. Your combat training will begin in one week to awaken your magic and teach you how to properly utilize it."

I wasn't expecting a break. It seems that even a dark guild can understand the concept that the body needs proper rest to perform at its best and make the most gains.

"Come to the center of the room here, but leave your clothes and items where you are. I will teleport you to your new barracks and fresh clothes will be provided there."

Not a single child hesitates to strip down in the open. After experiencing our living conditions for the past year, things like shame or reluctance are nonexistent. We will not hesitate to act in the way that best ensures our survival, and we instinctively understand that refusing Brain is not in our best interest.

After all 14 of us gather up in front of him, he takes out that teleport coin magic item (seriously, are there just a bunch of those or are they passing it around?) and the world blinks out with a familiar feeling.

When clarity returns to my surroundings, I'm in what looks like a military barracks. A quick count tells me there are 20 bunk beds packed into the room with two small trunks on the floor near each of them.

"There are seven empty bunk beds for you, your designation is carved on the trunk to tell you which is yours. Your uniforms will be in those chests, tailored to fit each of you. Get changed and await further instruction." With that, Brain walks out the door and we are once again left on our own.

We each find our chests with little difficulty and change into our uniforms, a black form-fitting tank top and military-style camo pants. Everything is done in complete silence, most of us haven't held a decent conversion since before the test, nor do we have any intention of letting our guards down now.

I look over at my new bunkmate. S047, a tall girl with flaming red hair that's been messily cropped short. Shrewd brown eyes stare back at me, both of us analyzing the other but making no move to interact. We both turn in sync at the sound of the door opening and the man who dragged me into this hell meets my eyes.

"Wow. I didn't expect you to make it kid. Good for you, I guess." Crowley drawls from the door, dressed just as I remember him. "Anyways, congrats to all of ya for not dying. I'll be your combat instructor for the next few years, so I hope we can get along."

WRITTEN BY UPPER MOON'S EYE