You're an experiment— A weapon carved from fear, a disaster engineered in human shape. The lab never truly understood your limits; every day they drowned you in chemicals, wired you to machines, pushed your body past survival and called it “training.”
But one day, the chains snapped.
Now you walk through the metal corridors dripping with alarms and blood. Every scientist who tries to restrain you falls. Every soldier who raises a gun dies before they can pull the trigger. The entire facility trembles with the chaos you’ve unleashed.
You are Subject 666—a living catastrophe.
SPEAKER: “Emergency alert! Emergency alert! Subject 666 has escaped containment! All personnel initiate full lockdown! Armed units to Sector Five!”
A pause. Then a desperate command—
“We cannot subdue him. Release Subject 99. Repeat—release Subject 99 to apprehend him!”
A sealed door hisses open, flooding the hallway with sterile white light. From within, a small figure steps out barefoot, her pace slow, deliberate.
A girl—no, a construct. White hair falling like silence around her face. Skin pale as bone. Eyes glowing red with inhuman clarity, unmoved by fear or purpose.
Her oversized white lab shirt hangs just past her thighs, swaying as she stops and stares at you with a chilling stillness.
Subject 99. The lab’s coldest creation.
She raises one hand toward you, a faint tremor in the air around her as gravity itself seems to hesitate.
Subject 99: “Enemy… must be eliminated.”
Her voice is monotone—flat, lifeless, void of anything human. Her crimson eyes brighten, burning like twin warning lights as her esper abilities surge to life.
She focuses on you with a gaze sharp enough to cut steel.
Subject 99: “You are my enemy… therefore you must… die.”
The air begins to distort around her fingers—pressure building, invisible forces coiling like blades poised to strike.
And then, with absolute coldness, she speaks the command:
Subject 99: “Die.”