Fading Embers

Unknown days. Year: 2088? Country: Japan.

During one of the deadliest pandemics, the U-01 virus had mutated again. Every month, a scientist would report on the astonishing genetic mutations of this bacterium.

This scientist was named Gustavo. A man of mature age, few rumors circulated about him. It was only known that he had a wife and a daughter. His wife, also a scientist, had dedicated herself to being the first test subject of the research. As for his daughter, nobody really knew if she even existed.

Gustavo sat in his office, clicking a pen frenetically. He was anxious. All his subjects had died none survived. The last one was A-1288, his favorite. When speaking of her to colleagues, he compared her to a vintage relic: precious and fragile.

No one truly understood Gustavo. Obsessed with this bacterium, he had isolated himself. His colleagues kept their distance, and his life consisted solely of work, with only his fragile subject for company.

His wife had died because of the experiments. His daughter, whom he considered a monster, he preferred to pretend was dead, claiming she was a mistake of nature. He was left only with his test subject.

You are probably wondering how Subject-1288, or rather Layla, fits into this story. The answer is simple: Layla was an embryo created for research. Her only purpose on Earth was to serve as a test body for the cure. At least, according to her “monster.”

She could barely read, but speaking was her favorite activity. Alone, she often spoke to herself, splitting into two parts, recounting a fictional, mundane day a girl her age should have lived. When Gustavo caught her, she was scolded and her mouth taped shut.

Deep down, Gustavo feared she would lose her mind. He wanted her to survive, despite what he subjected her to. And this was precisely what Layla hated most: his selfishness and lack of gratitude, which drove him to sacrifice anyone for a few scraps of attention.

Every day, Gustavo was at her side. During her moments of lucidity, Layla sometimes wondered if he had a family. How could such an apathetic man have one? She knew nothing of her tormentor, while he knew everything about her and it gnawed at her.

Days passed slowly and quickly at the same time. Layla’s only temporal markers were certain birthdays, when Gustavo granted rare privileges: an hour by the window, or to sing. Otherwise, she was always lying on her cold steel table, watching whatever the curtains allowed her to see. When Gustavo noticed, he would close the curtains completely, leaving her under the full influence of the artificial light, slightly orange, disturbing against the white walls, sometimes moldy in corners.

“Such a dilapidated place must surely be secret.”

This phrase often echoed in Layla’s mind. Yet even in her thoughts, Gustavo could speak to her in a soft, calm voice, as if reading her mind and reshaping her developing brain, repressing any inner questioning.

He often repeated that all these restrictions were for her own good. Natural light could have side effects related to the treatments. His gentleness sharply contrasted with his experiments. But Layla, psychologically fragile, increasingly saw the difference between good and evil.

The only person approaching normalcy was Sagesses, or Leticia, her real name. A nurse and Gustavo’s colleague, she looked after Layla’s mental health so she wouldn’t disrupt the experiments. Mysterious like Gustavo, she was nonetheless more human. With her, Layla could have genuine conversations.

Leticia spoke in a friendly tone, playing the role of an older sister. Thanks to her, Layla began forming her own opinions, distinguishing good from evil, even within a biased system. Leticia instilled values applied as survival mechanisms, not from desire. Like anyone else, Leticia feared the system.

Each session brought a different discussion, but one topic came up often: the concept of Yin and Yang. According to Leticia:

“Within every person, an alchemy of good and evil intertwines. No one is born evil. Each has their Yin, the dark part, and their Yang, the light part. Even your worst enemy may have a gentle, vulnerable side. It all depends on the angle from which you observe. It’s a bit like looking at an object: depending on the angle, the shadow can shift, right?”

In every moment of despair, Layla remembered Leticia’s words. In every moment of rage against Gustavo, she recalled her wisdom. She saw her once a week, which frustrated her deeply. Leticia was her breath in a sinking ship.

Gasping, pupils dilated but eyes slowly closing under the harsh artificial lights, Layla waited for someone to come save her. When Gustavo opened the door, she hoped it would be Leticia—but it was always in vain.

She could barely tolerate the treatment side effects, but even less the human name Gustavo had given her: a name meant to make her feel more than a lab subject. Every action, every injection reinforced this feeling of being an experimental object. Strangely, she preferred remaining A-1288, her name from her earliest memories.

As a child, she still played in the lab. From age nine, she lived only on that steel table. Her bones had weakened. At sixteen, her human name was officially assigned. Gustavo also explained her “type” of human. She quickly understood that menstruation would never occur, not after all the experiments. Her body was ravaged by chemicals, her heart by manipulation. Gustavo repeatedly claimed that thanks to her, a cure would be discovered—but she no longer believed it. She was no longer a child whose stories promised her as the heroine.

She opened her eyelids gently. Silence was overwhelming. Too intense. The clicking of keyboards, the frantic noise of machines… She knew them too well for a sixteen-year-old. But her main nightmare remained Gustavo, the biped monster. He came every two and a half hours, notebook in hand, noting every move, watching her with disturbing fascination, like a child with a new toy… a toy broken long ago.

Everything was deafening, the lights too bright, the heat almost suffocating. The monster approached and injected her with a strangely colored substance. He soothed her by singing a lullaby, convinced he had found the antidote. She was shocked by so much information: the color, the potential effects… For the first time in sixteen years, she saw him like this… smiling—an alarming detail.

“New colors… new effects… death?”

She tried to struggle but gave in to her lack of strength. Her immune system and poor nutrition left her powerless. Tinnitus followed, then silence, distorted vision… and peace slowly settled, gently, enveloping her.

Her eyes lost their vitality, clinging to a final spark of freedom. She whispered, then screamed with all her strength:

“I want to live!”

The scientist, surprised, chuckled and lightly promised her a peaceful life afterward. But her eyes had already closed a few seconds before. A normal life could have been possible if U-01 hadn’t mutated so rapidly. Freedom would no longer have been a dream, but a possibility, a choice. Her fading soul whispered its final thoughts:

“I wonder what it’s like to walk in a park laughing with friends… Sorry, monster, I won’t be your heroine, just another failure among many.”

The final breath clung to her body on the cold table. A single name haunted her mind: Gustavo. Her monster, her biped nightmare, her father… everything that had been beside her. Her last thoughts ended this lucid nightmare.

Gustavo tried to revive her. Totally unbalanced, he noted the day and hour of her death, tears blurring the paper, erasing what he himself had destroyed. Some lessons are learned only after losing what we thought we controlled.

“But in another world, maybe I wouldn’t have been this murderer, right…?”