Keanu's POV

"What the hell are you doing with the irregular?"

That's a question I've asked myself over and over again. What the hell am I doing playing nice with the irregular?

For some reason, I can't seem to understand my actions. Slowly, I'd find myself doing more favors for her and feeling a little sympathy towards her. I hated it.

I absolutely hated it.

I couldn't figure out why did what I did.

And I hated not understanding my own feelings.

"It's all part of the plan. She has to learn to trust me, if not I wouldn't get close enough to exert my revenge."

"Kid, are you sure?" Her worried tone made me all the more resentful. Inside, I was feeling all sorts of emotions, all of which didn't show on my face of course, but messed with my head.

"Positive."

She breathes out in relief but shoots a dirty look at me. "Why did you tell her my name was Elena?"

Eavesdropping again. "It isn't a lie, is it?"

She pouts. "But I don't go by that name anymore."

"Would you have wanted me to tell her your alias instead? She would have figured you out much faster."

"I'm just saying, I can't keep my identity hidden for long." She smiles mischievously. "If I keep running into her on quests, I'll have to out myself eventually."

That isn't a conversation I'm ready to have. "Keep using your programs to make you unrecognisable."

"Sure sure, extort me for my gadget skills, why not." She mutters, "the irregular doesn't seem that bad actually."

I know that. But what does it matter? It's only a matter of time before she becomes just like Damien. They are related by blood afterall. And then I wouldn't be so sad that I killed her before she could turn into a monster. I'm doing her a favor here. Damn it... that's all I've been doing lately.

"Don't tell me you're reconsidering the reason we entered this game?" I ask, my voice a distant whisper. "Our aim hasn't changed, don't go being all buddy buddy with our target."

"She really-"

"Understood?"

A defeated and anguished look on her face as she says. "Yeah."

I hate that look on her face.

It makes my want to tear my guts out. It makes me feel so guilty. Why am I the only one feeling like a villain here?

"Go." She takes her leave as I battle with the urge to slam my head on the table repeatedly. Why is this so difficult?

Maybe it wasn't her I pitied, but my younger self that I saw in her.

That disgusting sense of righteousness.

It irritated me.

Knock knock.

Who is that? Elena never knocks, and that's the last thing I'd expect Monica to do.

Whoever is at the door is some persistent being because they don't stop till I open it.

"Morning," The irregular mutters, standing stiffly in front of Evie's room.

I can't help but shove the bile rising up my lungs down. "What do you want?"

"Good morning to you too." She huffs.

"Yes yes." I roll my eyes. "Are you here to patronise me?"

"What?" She gasps, feigning anger. "I'm not that low of an irregular."

"Of course, so what do you want?"

"I was wondering if we could... train."

Bad timing. "I have things to do."

"Okay... sometime later."

"I have things to do sometime later as well."

"I guess... I'll train alllll by myself then."

Damn irregular. She is making herself seem sad on purpose. Wait... I don't have to feel bad, I really do have other things to do, none of which she's supposed to know about.

"That'll benefit you more." I say then turn to close the door, but I can't help the irritation that crawls down my spine when I realise whose clothes she's wearing. "What is that?"

"What is what?"

"What you're wearing."

"Oh this?" She smiles like she's accomplished something. "I searched through her closet and saw clothes that sized me, but they were neatly arranged even though it seems like it's been ages since anyone was in that room, was that your do-"

"Who said you could touch her stuff?"

My tone is absolutely harsh and coerce, and I'm aware of that fact. It is highly intended. Besides, I for one, in a very long time, am genuinely pissed with the irregular.

"I'll wash it, I just didn't bring any non-trainng clothes. I promise I didn't-"

"I don't care. You're not allowed to touch anything in that room. Just where exactly do you think you are, irregular?" The words easily rolls off my tongue. There's one rule I have... nobody is allowed to touch Evie's stuff.

She doesn't say anything, and just when I think she'll storm out and possibly not return, she says. "I'm sorry."

She apologized? I mean she does that a lot even though it's not her fault, but... she genuinely sounds scared.

"I won't touch her stuff again." She mutters. "I'll even remove it right now." She starts to take them off.

What? "No it's fine, you can keep it on." What kind of person chooses to strip down in front of their archnemesis? "Just wash it when you're done."

"That was the initial plan." I swear I heard her snort. "Anyway thanks for letting me wear this. Go on and do the stuff that you need to do, I promise not to bother you."

She practically skedazzles out the door. Was I too harsh?

S: Geez, you're too mean to the irregular, Keanu.

I don't need a lecture from her on how to treat my archnemesis, I think I handled that perfectly well.

K: Stop abusing your abilities to spy on me. Get back to work.

Honestly if I had to think about it, we're far off track our initial plan to execute the irregular, and different things keep piling up. I nearly can't remember why I decided to do this until I look at the portrait in my desk drawer and the same hatred I felt towards the irregular the first day I met her pierces through my heart like an arrow.

I will have my revenge.

°°°°

Crack!

The three foot iron whip slammed against my back with the intensity of a knife cutting through flesh. I flinched at the second lash aimed at my exposed leg. Heck, my entire body was exposed. But for some reason getting hit on my leg was much uncomfortable than my back.

In an hour, my entire body was painted in a purplish-blue hue. And yet not one tear was shed. My assailant looked at me expectedly, perhaps he was looking forward to my blood-curling screams. Too bad, I could no longer shout or cry after two years of the same routine.

Next, I would be placed into a tub of approximately one hundred and forty ice cubes and locked away in a freezer for three hours. I remember the first day of this routine, I was near death, in fact I wouldn't last thirty minutes in the freezer and it seemed the scientists realised that when my heart ceased beating constantly.

Now, my skin felt numb to the touch. I could barely feel anything, but somehow I was still conscious. I'd black out a few times befoee but the scientists didn't notice, and I almost drowned. They really sucked at keeping watch. Unlike their science-nature, they were quite the opposite of observant.

After this, I'd hang upside down for a few minutes otherwise I would end up dying.

This type of lifestyle was what I got used to after the death of my mother. I got to see the brutal and barbarian side of my father. He had always been distant to me yet loving to my mother. We didn't have the best relationship but we lived in silent peace with each other.

Until my mother died. It was like a thread snapped in his brain and he went haywire. I got to know the real monster that he hid from his family. The first symptom of abuse was when he hit my head against the wall repeatedly and I had a concussion that lasted for two months.

Fast forward a few months later, he informed me of how my mother truly died. I didn't believe at first until I was registered into the game, then I knew he wasn't lying. There really was a world beyond human understanding and Maverick incorporation was able to tap into that.

When asking my father what I could do to help acheive his dreams, he had said in a calm unnerving tone. "You will get stronger and avenge your mother with me."

Getting stronger to him involved certain torture techniques that triggered one's abilities in the game and increased their manpower drastically. Extreme torture techniques.

I had always wondered why I was tortured using ice until my ability got unlocked. Crystal arrows. It all made sense.

I was slowly gaining experience and power. I was near perfection. The perfect instrument for my father to get his revenge. I wanted to hate him. But I couldn't. He didn't mean evil... he just really missed mom, and so did I. I was ready to go to any length to get justice for mom.

The torment had gone on for two years and I was finally twelve. I was allowed to go out again. Freaking finally. I loved the sunset, I would always watch it with mom, so it reminded me of her. She would always put me in her embrace as it went down and when night came she would hold my hand so I wouldn't be scared of the dark. She was my sun. The only light I had in my life.

I didn't have to worry about the scars on my body, they healed just as fast as they would come, there wasn't a need to cover up anything. I wore a black hoodie and shorts that I'd only been allowed to wear, I suspect because of the monitoring device implanted in it.

People were just clearing from the park so I waited for some minutes before the area is empty. I slide into a swing and urge it to swing back and forth as I watch the sun go down.

Then a sudden and annoying thought interrupted me.

The more torture I went through, the more I lost the things that made me human. I couldn't cry anymore, or talk in fact... my very aim here to feel the love and warmth my mother once provided me, even that I no longer possessed.

Was it really worth it? Losing the things that made me human to revenge my mother who certainly wouldn't approve of my father's methods? Did I even have a choice to refuse? For once... just for once I wondered how my life would be if I was normal.

I knew what my father was truly doing. De-sensitising me was a coping mechanism for him to deal with the pain. Maybe it was some sort of sick pleasure he derived instead of revenge. But when I saw him hunched over my mother's portrait, I felt bad for him.

If I could leave, I would... I just didn't know how. Scientists like that viewed humans as experiments and nothing more. If I broke, they would look for a new toy. My purpose would be useless.

Sometimes I felt my memories fading away, I couldn't remember how my mother used to be like, but the sudden hatred that rushed to my heart whenever I saw her smile clouded any of my judgement. Whatever happens, I would avenge my mother, I would find her killer and kill him.

A sudden movement stirred up behind me and I swung around to punch the figure but it staggered back till it fell to the ground. "What the hell?" An angry brown skin girl yelled at me while putting on her left shoe.

Huh... what?

"You're sitting in my spot dude." She flips her hair as she places her hands on her hips. "Move over."

My first instinct was to kill her.

Sure, I could find a place to hide the body.

But the blood traces would be everywhere. I couldn't take that risk.

It would be rude to kill someone in the first meeting. Maybe second or third, but first is way too soon, maybe help them and be all cool the first time but threaten to and actually kill them the second time would be appropriate.

"Didn't you hear me? Move over." She says as she gestures to the other swing.

I didn't do much except glare at her. Yet she looked like she was about to crap herself, maybe because I radiated hostility and glared at her. Yeah... maybe.

"I-it's fine, I'll just sit here." She shuffled to the other swing, she let her legs float freely in the wind for a while until she stopped to glance at me. "I haven't seen you around here."

Well this is my first time being out in public in two years.

"You can't talk?"

I nodded subtly.

"It's fine, I have a lot of friends that are mute."

...okay?

"But you can hear fine, can't you?"

I suppose.

"Good." She went on to rant. She was so annoying, where did she even come from? "I've never seen you here in the past two years since I've been coming to this park every night. Did you just move in?"

"No."

She seemed surprised that I answered her. Maybe I should have told her I could answer with monosyllabic words, not a whole sentence. But that would be a whole sentence.

"That's... interesting." She mused over my answer and continued to swing back and forth. "Why are you here this late?"

I raise an eyebrow as if she dares to question me when she's doing the same thing.

"Yeah okay, we both have our reasons for being here, let's keep it as that."

I nodded subtly as we stayed in absolute silence.

"Well... are you okay?"

Something deep within me yelled no, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. Who was this stranger that cared whether another stranger was okay or not? Was she also a scientist? No, she looked to young to be. Then it struck me, the question was more about her than me. She wasn't okay either.

I nodded.

"That's good to hear."

"It is?" I surprised myself by talking again. It wasn't voluntary, my brain couldn't help but wonder why she would care.

"At least I know other people have it better than me."

Please... I beg to differ.

It wasn't like I was in a position I couldn't break free from.

I wasn't about to compete for most miserable person with this strange girl I'd just met. But I would win either ways.

Her stomach growled violently and she held onto it as if doing that would reduce the noise. "Another night without food." She smiled at me. "It's okay, this is normal for me."

"It is?"

"Yeah totally." She waved it off like it was nothing.

Even with her brown skin, I could tell she was very dehydrated and malnourished. There was no denying that. She was much closer to the brink of death, closer than I. Well that wouldn't be nice, dying in the first meeting is quite rude.

I brought out a lump from my pocket and folded it into her hand. She unwrapped it curiously and she looked at me, puzzled. "Cake?"

I nodded.

"You want me to eat it?"

"Why do you think I gave you?" I covered my mouth, surprised at my own statement. That was the most I'd uttered in years.

She chuckled. "You're weird." But she took a bite of it anyway.

The scientists may be ruthless, but they wouldn't starve me. I was their precious test subject afterall.

"Thanks." She wiped her lips and a tiny smile hung on them. "So... is your muteness an occasional thing?"

I shrugged, moving back to my swing.

"What's your name?"

I mused over the question... was it really safe to answer that? What if she was an undercover scientist and was testing my loyalty?

As if that'd make them stop torturing me.

I settled at that. They couldn't break me further. I was beyond broken.

"Keanu."

"Cool name." She smiled, her loose black hair floating in the wind as her magnetic hazel eyes shimmered brilliantly. "I'm Evie."