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and uncertainty. That is why I prefer to work alone. My research has progressed much more quickly without wasting the time to train inferior minds. The freedom it gave made me wonder why I hadnโ€™t embraced independence much earlier.โ€

Mengele turned and, with a deft movement, Gus felt something stab him in the forearm. The bore of the needle looked like a pencil leadโ€”it was so big. Mengele folded over two more restraints that immobilized his arm even more as he connected the tubing to a milky white fluid-filled bag.

Gus saw it drip into a small chamber, then descended down the thin tube into his arm. At first, he thought it was some kind of anesthetic, as he felt an odd numbness as the cold liquid flowed into his veins.

โ€œI suspect you share this type of independence, Gus, although in your case I would hazard to say itโ€™s very misguided. But it led to this collaboration. I realize itโ€™s not consensual on your part, but when hasnโ€™t humankind had to be dragged kicking and screaming into new eras? Everyone resists change so vehemently. Shameful.โ€

Mengele walked toward the central light, and the table followed him, following some unseen command, positioning itself next to one of the illuminated trays.

Mengele fussed with arranging his instruments just so on the tray beside Gus, straightening them with a few light pushes and tweaks until they were perfectly aligned.

โ€œThere. I think we can begin now. Two things. I do not mind if you struggle, most people need to at first. There will be a fair amount of pain, and you will not be able to control your initial reactions. We have all the time in the world, so I will be patient with you. You see that IV? Your arm is secured enough that you will not be able to dislodge or disconnect it. Alarms would instantly notify me even if you did manage it somehow, directly to my display,โ€ Mengele tapped his temple. โ€œAnd I am never far away. I love what I do, you see, so why distract myself with any other activities, especially as singular a one as you provide.โ€ Mengele picked up a large scalpel as a large grin spread on his face.

Gus thought he had learned what fear was from many of the things he had suffered on his path of becoming a super. He was about to learn that he had only seen the tip of the iceberg.

โ€œHave you ever thought of what is happening to fuel your abilities? What do you call it, mana? MP? Psionic energy? They all are wrong. I find it interesting that practically no supers wonder what this mysterious material is and how it is used. They just accept it without question, like a door turning on its hinges. Giving no thought as to why it functions as it does.

โ€œNot me. It is a matter of great interest to me and part of the reason you are not able to access your abilities right now. Without access to this mysterious MP, you are like an unloaded gun. Less even, because a gun could be used to bludgeon someone. You are equal to a reg now.โ€

Gus tried to bring up his display and found that he could not. This struck him with more panic than being restrained. A wide grin stole over Mengeleโ€™s stony features.

โ€œHow does that feel? To be powerless again? Back to square one. All that XP and those levels you fought for and nothing to show for it. Do you understand my interest now? Knowledge is power, and it gives me a superiority over any super who does not understand what it is and where it comes from. You are docile as a little lamb. Not that you were a match for me even when you had powers, but I think you understand the hopelessness of your current situation.โ€

โ€œWhat is happening to me? What happened to my display? Where is my MP?โ€ Gus asked drunkenly, feeling cotton-mouthed and disoriented. He tried to struggle weakly against his bonds and even that was losing intensity as he slowly began to feel paralyzed.

โ€œOh no. Iโ€™m not going to reveal that information. It was hard-won and Iโ€™m not going to just tell you how it works. But just knowing the answer exists is like turning the screw, is it not? It makes the whole experience that much more delicious. For me, at least. I like to dangle it there, just out of reach, like a treat for a dog, or a key to an inmateโ€™s cell. So tantalizing and yet so elusive. I hope to finalize my findings with your help and then I can move on to the third component. Itโ€™s poetic, your mother gave me the first key, and now you offer up the second on a silver platter! Once I understand and master that, I will not need my employerโ€™s help anymore, and I will truly ascend. The Nth want us to evolve, and I will be the first!

โ€œI can tell you are getting fatigued, let me correct that,โ€ Mengele grabbed a syringe off the rack and poked it into the IV bag, emptying the contents.

Gus felt his heartbeat increase as the medicine entered his system. His eyes flitted back and forth as he began to sweat; his heart felt like an over-revved engine and felt like it would burst. *Thrum-ta-dum-thrum-ta-dum*!

โ€œOh, do calm down. Itโ€™s just a little epinephrine, youโ€™re not having a panic attack. Or maybe you are? I just canโ€™t have you falling asleep. No, no. Iโ€™ve had subjects fall into comas and I could not rouse them once they were out. Itโ€™s much easier for me if you stay awake. Plus a little sleep deprivation makes a subject so much more pliant for my needs. Are you ready to begin?โ€

Chapter Sixty-Two

Hertz Donut

Mengele was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them.

He was meticulous in his studies, and his labโ€”though white and pristineโ€”managed to be outfitted with

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