June 19, 1976, 7:30 a.m.
When I opened my groggy eyes, I saw a mess of scattered documents.
It seemed I had meant to rest my eyes for just a moment while revising the draft in my office last night, only to fall asleep face-down at my desk.
After returning from the library, I had sat down in my office and started polishing the draft, and before I knew it, it had gone past two in the morning.
I was building a scientific argument by citing existing research, and that took far more time than I had expected.
And that still wasn’t the end of it.
I also had to run simulations in my head: how I would respond if Dr. Ross found something to rebut, whether there were any holes in the logic.
Before I knew it, my eyes had closed, and I had fallen asleep right there on the desk.
"Ugh... my whole body aches."
My neck was stiff, and my eyes felt dry.
A red mark from my head pressing into the back of my hand was still left there.
"Wait, what time is it?"
I checked the clock. It was 7:30.
The examination schedule started at 8:00, which meant I had only thirty minutes left.
Damn it. I really didn’t have time for this.
Once I confirmed the time, I hurried to my feet.
But my body had stiffened up, so even standing was heavier than usual.
For now, I quickly washed my face, threw on my jacket, and got ready to leave.
Then I glanced at the mirror for a moment.
Dark circles shadowed the skin beneath my eyes, and my cheeks looked slightly hollow.
Given how little I had been sleeping lately, it was only natural.
Sleep was something you were supposed to get properly no matter what, but the situation was what it was.
It made me realize all over again just how much of a privilege my old life had been, when I could roll around in bed until late morning without a care.
I looked away from the mirror.
After sorting the documents, I took only the materials I needed and put the rest into the cabinet.
Then I pressed the buzzer under my desk to call Herman.
Less than ten seconds after I pressed it, Herman entered with a rigid posture.
"Yes, sir. You called for me."
"I think I’ll skip breakfast today, so tell the kitchen not to prepare my meal."
Herman looked at me for a moment.
"You’re skipping a meal?"
"Yes. I don’t have the time for it."
Herman kept looking at me for a little longer.
Normally he would have just lowered his head and let it go, but today he seemed to be choosing his words.
"...Did you perhaps not sleep well last night?"
"It’s not something you need to concern yourself with. Just pass along what I said."
Herman bowed his head briefly.
"Understood."
Leaving Herman behind, I quickly headed toward the research building.
The children were fasting too, so maybe it was right for me to go hungry with them. More importantly, I honestly wasn’t even hungry.
My stomach felt uncomfortably blocked up, like nothing would go down anyway.
Half of me was worried about the children, and the other half was tense at the thought that I would have to watch their human experimentation in person for the first time in front of the Umbrella researchers.
Honestly, if I ate anything now, I might just feel sick.
The more I thought about it, the heavier it all became.
So for now, I just walked the corridor and consciously tried to empty my head.
The entrance to the research building came into view at the end of the hall.
I checked the clock. It was 7:55.
I had barely made it with five minutes to spare.
Without stopping, I went inside.
Around 8:00 a.m., as soon as I entered the research building, Dr. Ross and his assistants were already standing at the entrance as if they had been waiting for me.
Behind Dr. Ross were the chief researcher Alloy and several others as well.
It was literally the elite of this Antarctic research station gathered in one place.
When Dr. Ross saw me, he bowed his head.
"Director, are you ready?"
"Yes."
I answered briefly. I had nothing else to say.
"Then we’ll begin with the vital checks for the two Veronica test subjects."
The phrase Veronica test subjects oddly grated on my nerves.
Maybe it was because I was sleep-deprived, or maybe I was just sick of this whole situation where the children were treated as nothing more than test subjects. Either way, I just wanted to get this godawful business over with as quickly as possible.
I said nothing and nodded.
Whatever I felt, I couldn’t show any private emotion here.
"Which side are the children in?"
Dr. Ross glanced at me briefly.
"Veronica Test Subject 2 is at the left end of that corridor, and Veronica Test Subject 1 is directly across from him on the right, Director."
Veronica Test Subject 1 meant Alexia, and 2 meant Alfred.
"I see."
I led the way.
The others followed behind Dr. Ross.
As I walked down the corridor, I quietly steadied my breathing.
After wondering who I should see first, I decided to open the left door first.
Inside, Alfred was sitting on a chair.
He was wearing the kind of clothing patients wore before surgery instead of his usual clothes.
Alfred was perched on the bed in that outfit, waiting for me.
When he saw me, he gave a small smile.
It wasn’t a forced one.
But for some reason, that smile in a patient gown felt even more unsettling.
How long had he been sitting there waiting?
"You came?"
I could feel Alfred’s faint, warm smile in front of me, and behind me, the gazes of Dr. Ross and the others.
Apparently, the usual Alexander had always acted very stern and serious toward Alfred in front of the researchers.
But I wasn’t that man.
Still, if I suddenly acted gentle here, that would probably look strange to them too.
I did my best to smooth my expression and answered briefly.
"Yes. I’m here."
My face stayed the same, but my voice was as kind as I could make it. That was the best I could do.
When the researchers entered the room after me, Alfred’s shoulders stiffened slightly.
Dr. Ross alone had already made his face harden, so the pressure of all those people coming in at once must have been immense.
The atmosphere itself must have been triggering Alfred’s trauma.
I simply stood beside him.
Then, while pretending to examine his health, I gently touched his hand.
I didn’t say anything in particular.
But I thought even reminding him that I was here would help.
Dr. Ross opened the chart and said, "Then we’ll begin the vital checks."
The thermometer came out, and the blood pressure cuff was wrapped around Alfred’s arm.
Alfred sat there silently and let them do it.
The numbers were recorded one by one.
Then came the blood draw.
The moment the assistant took out the blood collection kit, Alfred’s eyes went to the needle tip.
It was the same startled look he had shown before.
But this time was different.
Alfred shut his eyes tight.
Then he bit his lip slightly.
With the sharp sting, Alfred’s shoulder trembled once, very faintly.
But he didn’t make a sound.
He just sat there as if calm, though every so often he still checked my face with his eyes.
That look silently asked whether he had kept the promise he made yesterday.
'Yes. You’re doing well.'
I met his eyes briefly and gave the tiniest nod.
I didn’t know if he noticed, but a faint smile touched Alfred’s lips.
When the blood draw was over, Dr. Ross checked the chart and exchanged a brief glance with the assistant.
"All vital signs are normal. I’ll record no abnormalities."
Normal. I hadn’t expected that word to sound so complicated.
I couldn’t tell whether it was a relief that everything was normal, or whether that only made the fact that the real experiment was about to begin feel even heavier.
Dr. Ross closed the chart and looked at me.
"Director, then we’ll move to Veronica Test Subject 1."
I nodded and looked down at Alfred once.
When Alfred met my eyes, he gave a small nod.
He still didn’t say anything.
I just held his gaze for a moment, as if to pass along even a little of what I was feeling, then turned away.
The researchers and I crossed the corridor and entered the room on the opposite side.
Inside, Alexia was sitting upright in a chair.
Like Alfred, she was wearing a patient gown.
But the atmosphere was different.
If Alfred had looked tense while waiting, Alexia seemed as though she had simply always been sitting there.
Even when she saw Dr. Ross and the others enter, her expression didn’t change.
She just looked quietly ahead.
Even in a situation like this, her noble bearing was almost like the portrait of the previous Veronica head I had seen in the library yesterday.
She didn’t speak, and her expression didn’t change.
She only met my eyes once, then looked forward again.
For her, that was probably her own version of a greeting.
I gave a short nod.
No words were exchanged, but we understood each other through our eyes alone.
I looked at Alexia and silently hoped she would be safe, while Alexia read that look and replied, Don’t worry.
Dr. Ross opened the chart and said, "We’ll begin the vital checks for Veronica Test Subject 1."
Alexia said nothing.
She only looked at the blood pressure cuff wrapped around her arm.
Even so, her gaze briefly flicked to the chart in Dr. Ross’s hand before returning.
Then came the blood draw.
The moment the assistant took out the needle, Alfred would have looked toward it, but Alexia was different.
Without giving it a second glance, she simply held out her arm with complete composure.
And even as the needle pierced her flesh, she didn’t blink.
She didn’t shrink back either; instead, she calmly watched the blood being drawn.
Was this child unable to feel pain, or was she feeling it and hiding it perfectly...?
When the blood draw was over, Dr. Ross checked the chart and said, "Veronica Test Subject 1 also has entirely normal vital signs."
Alexia’s expression didn’t change at those words.
She just sat there as if it were only natural.
Her utterly matter-of-fact demeanor made me feel almost embarrassed for having worried about her at all.
Dr. Ross closed the chart and looked at me.
"Vital checks are complete. We’ll move on to the morning cognitive assessment."
I gave a short nod.
Around 10:00 a.m., cognitive testing for the two children began.
They said each child would be tested in a separate room, and Alfred would go first.
Apparently they were starting with the control group or something.
The assistant laid the test sheets in front of Alfred.
It was a test composed of language comprehension, perceptual reasoning, and working memory.
Dr. Ross looked at me and gave a brief explanation.
"In the case of Veronica Test Subject 2, previous testing showed a plateau at the level of fourteen- to fifteen-year-old items. This time we’ll repeat the same level of questions to confirm the trend."
A plateau at the level of fourteen to fifteen.
It was already astonishing enough that they were giving a five-year-old a test at the level of a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old.
And now they were calling it a plateau. Just what kind of standard were these people expecting from these children, anyway...? I wondered how Alfred felt hearing that.
I didn’t know whether Alfred had heard it or not, but he simply accepted the test sheets and began solving them slowly.
He would stop the pencil now and then, think, then write down an answer and move on to the next question.
After thirty minutes, when the test was over, the assistant collected the sheets and handed them to Dr. Ross.
Dr. Ross skimmed the pages and gave a short nod.
"Compared with the previous results, there doesn’t seem to be any meaningful change. We’ll need a more exact analysis, but for now it appears the plateau is continuing."
Alfred showed no reaction even after hearing that.
Did this child even understand what those words meant?
Even if he did, he probably wouldn’t care. What he wanted wasn’t some genius label like that.
Now it was Alexia’s turn.
When the assistant laid out her test sheets, they were different from Alfred’s.
Even the thickness was different.
Dr. Ross looked at me and explained, "In the case of Veronica Test Subject 1, previous testing showed that she solved fourteen- to fifteen-year-old items at a very high level. This time we’ll move up one level from there."
So she had already done that in the previous test...
Since that test had been conducted before I possessed this body, there was no way I could have known.
But hearing it now, I was reminded all over again just how extraordinary this child was.
Alexia took the sheets and skimmed them once.
Her expression didn’t change.
But the speed at which her fingers moved across the pages was noticeably quick.
It was the look of someone grasping the entire contents in that brief moment.
The test began.
From the moment it started, the scratching of the pencil barely stopped.
The pencil moved without rest.
Every so often she would pause in front of a question, but even then it was only for a few seconds at most.
Alloy, who was taking notes beside Dr. Ross, muttered quietly, "...Her solving speed is even faster than last time."
Dr. Ross said nothing and wrote something on the chart.
When the test ended, Alexia quietly set the sheets down.
Sixteen minutes and thirty-six seconds. An astonishingly fast time.
Dr. Ross looked over the collected sheets and fell silent for a moment.
Then he exchanged a brief glance with Alloy.
"...I’ll report the results separately after analysis."
I knew what that reaction meant.
Alexia had probably delivered results that exceeded expectations again.
Seeing that genius once more, I couldn’t help but feel admiration rise in me too.
But at the same time, my emotions were tangled.
Was this child impressive and worth being proud of, or was I afraid that these results would only draw even more attention from Umbrella...?
Around 10:50 a.m., the second schedule was the nerve response test.
The moment the assistant took out the electrical stimulation equipment, I clenched my fist without realizing it.
It was a method that measured response speed by applying electrical stimulation to the peripheral nerves.
And that device was an intramuscular electromyography unit.
In simple terms, they were sticking needles into the body and sending electricity through them.
Alfred went first.
The moment the equipment was attached to Alfred’s arm, his expression stiffened.
Dr. Ross said calmly, "Please try not to move, even if it’s uncomfortable."
Alfred said nothing and nodded.
Shortly after, the needle went in with a sharp sting, and a jolt spread through him.
At the electric shock, Alfred’s body reflexively flinched.
For children that age, this was a rather intense test, and most would cry or whine at the unfamiliar sensation, but Alfred didn’t make a sound.
At the same time, though, I could see him clenching his teeth to endure the pain.
And that repeated several more times.
Once, the stimulation must have been especially strong, because the corners of Alfred’s eyes grew damp.
But he still didn’t shed a tear.
Was it because he was trying to keep the promise he made not to cry in front of his father...?
I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to stand beside him like this.
How heavy it would feel to be unable to stop it.
Then Alfred kept looking for my eyes every so often.
Each time, I met his gaze briefly.
'You’re doing well. Just a little more.'
Just my gaze alone could never lessen the pain this child was going through, but...
Encouraging him like this was the only thing I could do.
The test ended.
The needle was withdrawn, and Alfred let out a quiet breath.
Dr. Ross wrote down the numbers on the chart and said, "The response values are within the normal range."
The assistant nodded and wrote something down.
To those people, everything Alfred had endured while gritting his teeth until then was nothing more than data.
If the numbers were within the normal range, that was the end of it.
I clenched my teeth inwardly.
This was only the tiniest beginning, and it already looked like this.
There was still the biopsy and the cerebrospinal fluid collection to come, and how was this child supposed to endure all of that?
There was a reason this innocent child had become the psychopathic monster of the original story.
Just watching was painful enough. How had these children endured this for years? Or had they kept enduring until something finally snapped?
That was when Alfred glanced at me again.
His eyes were still wet.
But the corners of his mouth were lifted ever so slightly.
'I kept my promise, right?'
That was the look in his eyes.
I gave a short nod.
Then, while the researchers were distracted by their data, I stepped close to him and said in a low voice, just loud enough for him to hear, "Yes. You did well. You really did well."
After confirming that, Alfred turned his gaze forward again.
Alfred was timid, easily frightened, always shrinking back whenever he looked at others.
And yet even he had tried not to waver in front of those researchers until the very end.
I was proud of that, and it hurt too.
From the beginning, the fact that a five-year-old had been put in this situation was wrong.
Now it was Alexia’s turn.
Alexia remained as expressionless as before.
Even while the equipment was attached to her arm, even when the needle went in, her expression didn’t change.
With the sharp jolt, Alexia’s arm twitched reflexively.
And that was all.
Her face still didn’t change, and she made no sound.
I could see the tips of her fingers go briefly pale before color returned, but only someone paying close attention would have noticed.
The stimulation repeated several more times.
Alexia remained exactly as she was to the end.
I couldn’t tell whether that was courage or simply the way she was.
But it was clear that not showing it did not mean she wasn’t in pain.
When the test ended, Alloy looked over the chart and quietly said, "The response speed is significantly faster than average."
Dr. Ross nodded and made a note.
Alloy glanced at the chart beside him and spoke again, briefly. "It’s not just faster than average. At these numbers, she’d rank in the upper tier even by adult standards."
Dr. Ross was silent for a moment.
Then he skimmed the chart once more and said quietly, "...It’s even higher than the previous test."
The two men exchanged a brief look.
In other words, Alexia had reflexes that were effectively far more superhuman than those of an ordinary person.
Alexia herself seemed unfazed by the statement, but I felt conflicted.
The more exceptional this child was, the more valuable a test subject she became to those people. That thought brought both pride and fear at once.
I honestly couldn’t say which feeling was stronger, but at the very least, it wasn’t a pleasant one.
Dr. Ross handed the data to the assistant and said, "The nerve response test is complete. After a short rest, we’ll move on to X-rays and then the biopsy this afternoon."
Now the real problem was beginning.
I quietly steadied my breathing.
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