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"What's his designation?" I ask, employing terminology I've learned carries weight within the institutional hierarchy.

"Blood Prophet," she answers without hesitation. "His capacity to read physiological indicators allows for predictive assessment of stress response patterns before they manifest in observable behavior."

He can see what you'll do before you do it.

No wonder they keep him isolated behind multiple security barriers. Such capability represents an extraordinary threat to institutional control mechanisms founded on behavioral predictability and response consistency.

"May I observe closer?" I request, employing the same technique that gained me access to Sable—wide eyes and scientific curiosity calculated to appeal to researchers’ pride in institutional accomplishments.

She hesitates longer this time, consulting security protocols on her tablet before responding.

"Viewing permitted from secondary containment corridor," she concedes finally. "Standard safety parameters apply—no direct interaction, minimum three-meter separation barrier, emergency response team on standby protocol."

The precautions reveal more about this alpha's capabilities than any explanation could provide.

They fear him differently than they fear Riot's raw destructive capacity or Sable's judgmental precision—more profound concern suggesting deeper threat to institutional stability.

Perfect.

We proceed through three separate security checkpoints before reaching a secondary observation corridor—a transparent barrier positioned approximately five meters from the central arena floor.

From this vantage, I can observe the aftermath of violence with clearer perspective while remaining safely separated from its architect.

Subject 418— the Blood Prophet —remains in the same position, showing no reaction to our arrival despite our position being clearly visible from the arena floor.

His stillness carries a quality that transcends mere physical discipline, suggesting a state closer to meditation than combat readiness despite surrounding evidence of his capacity for extraordinary violence.

"He appears completely unaffected by what he's done," I observe quietly, the statement serving dual purposes of maintaining my persona while gathering psychological assessment data.

"Subject 418 demonstrates remarkable emotional detachment during performance evaluation," the researcher confirms, referencing data on her tablet.

"Neurological scans indicate near-complete suppression of amygdala activation during combat sequences, suggesting capacity for action without emotional engagement. "

Or perfect control over physiological indicators they use to measure emotional response.

I study him with increasing interest, noting details invisible from previous distance.

Where Riot's body carried brutal muscularity and Sable's frame spoke of judicial dignity even in captivity, this alpha presents different physical narrative—lean efficiency rather than overwhelming power, controlled precision rather than explosive force.

His eyes suddenly snap to mine despite the distance separating us, gaze connecting with such immediate intensity that I physically flinch from the unexpected contact.

The researcher notes my reaction with clinical interest, recording the observation on her tablet while maintaining practiced detachment.

"Subject 418 demonstrates extraordinary visual acuity," she explains, misinterpreting my response as simple startle reflex rather than recognition of something far more significant.

"His capacity to identify micro-expressions from an extended distance represents one of his more valuable behavioral adaptations. "

But I know instinctively that his focus carries meaning beyond mere observational capacity. This isn't simply enhanced vision— it's recognition. Understanding. Assessment that transcends institutional parameters to evaluate something they cannot measure or quantify.

He sees me.

Not the persona I've constructed for survival.

Not the test subject they've designated for experimental protocols.

He sees through constructed layers to whatever truth lies beneath manufactured compliance and strategic cooperation.

And what frightens me most is the certainty that he approves of what he sees.

The researcher's tablet emits a soft notification tone, drawing her attention momentarily away from our interaction. She frowns slightly at whatever information appears on screen before returning attention to me with practiced professionalism.

"Scheduling adjustment requires brief consultation with the monitoring team," she explains, gesturing toward the communication station positioned near the observation corridor entrance.

"Please remain at a minimum safe distance from the containment barrier during temporary supervisor absence.

No one will be able to help you otherwise. "

I nod with appropriate compliance, maintaining expected behavioral parameters while recognizing the unexpected opportunity this deviation represents.

I doubt she’s confident with the idea that I’ll take a shot like I did the first time.

A shame she doesn’t grasp my pure risk-taking personality.

I’m not afraid to prove such yet again.

How I almost smirk at how rebellious I seem to be despite the implications.

The researcher steps away, lowering her voice as she engages the monitoring team through the communication system positioned just far enough that normal hearing would prevent eavesdropping.

But my hearing has never been normal—another genetic modification the Blackwood program implemented without considering the potential for independent application beyond research parameters.

The Blood Prophet's eyes remain locked with mine across the separation barrier, his gaze carrying intensity that transcends physical distance. Neither of us moves, neither speaks, communication occurring through a channel that is invisible to monitoring systems and security protocols.

Without warning, he raises one hand in a precise gesture that carries clear meaning despite institutional prohibition against unauthorized communication: wait .

Then he moves—changes from perfect stillness to fluid motion occurring without a transitional phase that would indicate preparation or intention.

The guards positioned at the arena perimeter respond immediately, raising suppression weapons with practiced efficiency, but their reaction proves catastrophically inadequate.

The Blood Prophet flows between them, movements carrying such precise calculation that each guard's position at initiation of response pattern determines their neutralization methodology.

One drops from a strike to his vagus nerve cluster that interrupts the cardiovascular rhythm without causing permanent damage. Another collapses from a precision impact to the brachial plexus that induces temporary nervous system shutdown resembling natural syncope.

Within seventeen seconds, all twelve perimeter guards lie unconscious around the central figure, who has returned to perfect stillness as if the momentary violence never occurred.

It’s a stunning masterpiece of skill and expertise only a manic could acknowledge.

Or dare to be proud of witnessing firsthand.

Alarms remain silent—evidence that whatever he's done falls within the parameters of authorized performance demonstration rather than a security breach requiring intervention.

The researcher continues her communication at the monitoring station, unaware that the demonstration has a specific purpose beyond standard evaluation metrics.

The Blood Prophet approaches the containment barrier with measured steps, movements calibrated to broadcast non-threatening intention to monitoring systems while maintaining a precise targeting trajectory toward my position.

He stops exactly 10 centimeters from the transparent barrier, close enough for direct communication while respecting physical separation mandated by institutional protocol.

His eyes study me with intensity that transcends standard assessment, gaze moving across features with analytical precision that feels simultaneously invasive and affirming.

When he finally speaks, his voice emerges surprisingly soft despite surrounding evidence of lethal capability— low tenor with distinctive cadence that suggests careful selection of each syllable.

"Blackwood omega," he states, the simple acknowledgment carrying weight beyond its component words. "Unexpected variation from standard protocol parameters."

Despite how secretive these levels seem to be, it’s interesting how word spreads fast like a wildly lit fire.

I maintain the position at the safety line, recognizing opportunity while calculating associated risks.

"Blood Prophet," I respond, matching his formal designation with appropriate acknowledgment. "Your capabilities exceed documented assessment metrics."

A smile touches his lips—subtle expression that transforms clinical features into something unexpectedly human.

The change reveals aspects of institutional documentation likely neglected—capacity for humor, for connection, for emotional engagement, carefully concealed beneath performance parameters they measure and record.

"As do yours," he observes quietly, gaze flicking briefly toward the researcher still engaged in communication before returning to me. "Probability mapping indicates purpose beyond apparent compliance motivation."

The statement confirms my initial assessment—he sees through the constructed persona to the strategic objective beneath. His understanding represents both opportunity and potential threat, depending on how he chooses to utilize this information.

I have to think and speak in a way they can understand. Scientifically, with benefits no different from all these researchers who bribe and continue to demonstrate power.

It seemed to become my new personality, and yet...