The word came out of nowhere, taking by surprise everyone around it. A short sound, rough at the edges, but clear enough that every alchemist in the chamber froze. The one holding the hooked probe kept his hand above the exposed skull for a moment before pulling the tool free. Metal scraped against stone as he set it down. No one spoke. They watched the body for any sign that the sound would repeat.

  The assistant nearest the table stepped back, wondering if he should call for the headmaster in case it said any other word. His boots tapped against the floor as he moved toward the others. He told the man with the probe to stop all work. They needed to see if the subject could form another sound on his own. The assistant’s voice stayed low, as if volume might break whatever fragile thing had just happened.

  The creature on the table GR1M1 did not move. His chest rose in uneven pulls. His jaw hung open from the earlier adjustments. The carved channels along the exposed bone glistened with a thin layer of fluid. The alchemists waited for another sound, but nothing came. The assistant said it was too early. The subject needed time to create anything longer than a single word.

  One of the younger alchemists left the group and hurried toward the far door. His steps echoed through the corridor as he went to fetch the head alchemist. The others stayed around the table, whispering about nerve paths and the possibility of a misfire. None of them stepped close enough to resume the procedure. They didn't want to risk such things from never happening again as what they had achieved was other breakthrough without even knowing how they did it.

  The head alchemist entered a short while later. His pace slowed as he approached the table, as if he expected the report to be a mistake. He stopped beside GR1M1 and leaned in. The creature’s jaw shifted. A faint rasp came from his throat. Then the word formed again, clearer this time.

  Why?! as if it was asking with the intention of knowing what he did wrong to deserve it.

  The head alchemist straightened. His breath caught in his throat. He looked at the carved channels in the brain with an open along with the open skull that was slowly regenerating, then at the assistants. He asked if they had altered any of the deeper nerves. They said no. Only surface adjustments as he had ordered. Nothing that should have restored vocal function to dead tissue. So he ordered an inside careful carving to see the reaction to it.

  He studied the creature’s head, general muscles and expressions. The jaw trembled. The eyes did not move. The head alchemist considered the possibility that they had connected something they did not understand. A path between damaged nerves. A bridge that allowed the dead to create sound. If this was true, then communication with other dead forms might be possible. Zombies. Corpses. Anything with a mouth and a trace of structure left.

  He wondered why the first word had been that one. He wondered if the creature had been aware during the carving. If he had followed the procedure from inside his ruined mind. The thought pulled a grin across the head alchemist’s face. It stayed there as he imagined the implications. His shoulders shook with a quiet laugh he tried to hold back. He wondered at the idea they might have to blank his memory, or else GR1M1 might hold a grudge against them. The headmaster laughed with the rest of the alchemists at the idea a lump of meat could even rise to kill them.

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  GR1M1’s gaze did not shift, but the head alchemist noticed the way the creature’s fingers curled against the restraints. A small movement. A sign of reaction. He stepped back and told the others to prepare the capsule. They needed the subject contained before they continued any further tests.

  The assistants gathered their tools. They spoke quickly now, energized by the discovery. They discussed carving deeper into the brain to see what else could be triggered. Not only that, but they talked about shaping the creature’s mind, controlling him like a construct that would not collapse when the magic faded. They wanted to test how far the nerves could be pushed.

  The head alchemist raised a hand to indicate they would continue later. For now, they would secure the subject and record the results. They proceeded to congratulate each other by shacking their hands, it was time they should celebrate. They had achieved something no other alchemist had managed up to now. A breakthrough worthy of a feast.

  They lifted GR1M1 from the table and carried him toward the cylinder capsule. The head alchemist followed behind them, still smiling. Water pressed against his limbs as they lowered him into the capsule. His body drifted once they let go. The surface rippled above him. The glass walls curved around him. He watched their shapes blur as the lid sealed. It seems they put him to sleep again after a long day of experimenting on him

  The room outside dimmed. The sound of the latch locking reached him through the water. He floated with his back near the bottom of the cylinder. His arms hung at his sides. His temporary legs did not respond when he tried to move them. They waddle like a snake, as if they were boneless.

  He remembered the head alchemist’s grin. The way the man leaned close. The way his teeth showed. Something in that expression made the water feel colder. His body reacted before he understood why. A tight pull along his spine. A sense that the man’s interest meant danger.

  He tried to form another word. His jaw shifted, but nothing came out. The water muffled the attempt. He let his mouth close again to avoid water from getting in. The earlier sound had taken more effort than he expected. His throat still felt raw.

  He looked down at his chest. The skin along his ribs had changed since the last time he noticed it. The parasite inside his bones pushed against him in slow pulses. It had not broken him yet. It fed on him in small amounts, steady and patient. He felt the pressure from within, a dull force that never stopped.

  He tried to move his head. The muscles along his neck responded this time. A small turn. Enough to see the curve of the glass beside him. When he first woke in this place, he could not move at all. His back had been numb. His head had stayed fixed in one direction. Now he could shift a little. The change unsettled him. He did not know if the improvement came from the parasite or from the alchemists’ carving.

  He tried to remember anything before the table. Nothing came. Only fragments. Shapes without meaning. Sounds without context. He did not know if he had lived before this. He did not know if he had been someone or something else. The fog in his mind stayed thick.

  He focused on what he understood. The alchemists saw something in him. Something they wanted. Something they planned to change. His body mattered to them in a way he did not understand. He was not strong or smart at all. He was not useful in a fight. Likewise, he did not look like anything they would admire.

  Furthermore, he drifted in the water and watched the blurred lights outside the capsule. The room stayed quiet. The celebration had moved elsewhere. He stayed alone with the slow pulse inside his bones and the faint ache along the carved channels in his skull.

  He did not know what he had been. Not only that, but he did not know what he would become. All he knew was this place, this body, and the sound he had managed to form.

  Why…

  “???????? ??? ???????... ?????? ???? ?? ???????? ?? ?????? ?? ??? ?? ?????????...”

  “Monsters are mirrors... showing only the darkness we refuse to see in ourselves...”

  How was it??