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"Vanya," I start, my tone serious, "you forget what I'm doing for you," I remind her, "this," I trace the small laceration on her skin that's mostly healed, "is a blessing."

She knows what I mean too, because anyone else with her poor endurance would have died a long time ago. Instead, I'd always assigned her tests that I knew she could handle, and when the opportunity arose to help her I did. But doing that is risky for me.

I've just gained Miles' trust. If I mess this up now, then I'll lose everything. Vanya too, since she wouldneverbe able to survive under normal conditions.

"You know what happens to others." I raise an eyebrow at her, lifting my own shirt to show her the myriad of scars that run along my torso.

But my case is different.

I've become so inured to pain, so used to being cut open and put back again, that nothing fazes me anymore.

Nothing hurts. Nothing shocks.

I'm… empty.

It's interesting when you put it like that, since in the time I've been with Miles I've only become smarter, stronger, faster. But while my brain has soaked in all available knowledge, my soul has slowly faded away.

Empty.

Even the sight of Vanya battered and in pain fails to rouse any sympathy out of me. The only reaction I get is a rational anger that she can't do better.

Cold rationality.

Every type of warmth that I might’ve possessed at some point is gone. Sometimes, I don't even remember what it was like to… feel.

"I can't do this again, Vlad," she complains, shaking her head slowly. "I…"

Her eyes are bloodshot, her lips chapped. "I don't know how long I can continue like this," she whispers, and I see what she's doing.

She's done it before. Trying to get me to pity her. And maybe before it would have worked, but my patience's run thin.

"You have to, Vanya," I tell her, exasperated. "You'll become stronger. You'll see." I nod at her, leaving her in her tiny corner while I stand up, righting myself and preparing for today's tests.

Miles and I had developed another system—a new area of immunology that could aid us in improving our model for the perfect soldier.

The body can be strong and can resist however it wants in the face of pain, but it's all in vain if the immunity is compromised.

And so we'd started theorizing and putting together a list that could affect immunity and how we could stop it.

Everyone's already been vaccinated against most known diseases, but there are other things out there that can prove just as deadly.

Like poison. Or venom.

We'd already gone through the poison stage, and we've been ingesting small dosages of ground leaves from poisonous plants like belladonna, aconite, datura and many others.

Of course, we lost a lot of people until we got the dosages right, but ever since then I've noticed an increase in alertness, my body responding better to my commands, and thus proving our experiment was well on its way to success.

After a lengthy trial, Miles had slipped a larger dosage of aconite in my food without telling me. It had all been to eliminate bias or the placebo effect from the findings of the study, and seeing that I survived, I'd say the experiment worked.

Vanya, however, hasn't fared so well. She's been sluggish since her last dosage of belladonna, her focus impacted as well as her appetite.

She's getting weaker.

I don't want to admit this to myself, but I don't know how much long she's going to last like this. And I don't know how that makes me feel.

She follows slowly behind me as we go to the lab area, dragging her feet on the floor and trying to get my attention with her petty tricks.

"It's not going to work, Vanya," I sigh, grabbing her hand.