Time was never one without its cruelty, and so no matter the truths August found in that place, it could not undo what was already done. The only thing left then, was to know—not to change, not to solve, not to fix—only to know.

The powers that be wouldn’t trade knowledge for naught still, especially with what the man had brought back with him, himself. A body and mind broken and mended to become more.

They’d drag him to a room below the iron island, inside a facility at the shore. It was but a building barely protruding from a hill to the side of the beach, a whitewashed concrete structure, a small square tunnel before an impenetrable steel door.

If one was one to enter that place, for any myriad of unfortunate reasons, they would be lead into a stone fortress. Then, a descent would be met with guards at each post, every checkpoint manned and maintained by servants.

As for the lower rings of that hell, a place that seemed to be people’s living quarters. The sound of footsteps, plentiful, signs of life comforting, but the panic in each step not so much.

They put the monster in a padded room, all sides leading to a dead end, and then they watched. It was all useful, every bit of his actions. He had left a human, and years later, a whole three in fact, he came back almost an anomaly himself.

Thus, the first test was escaping a prison designed to contain low influence ideas. It was laced throughout with energy from the true anomaly, influenced to confuse and misguide any inhabitants.

As for why he laid there, unmoving, the feelings he must have felt; dizziness, nausea and falling all at the same time. Yet, even under such influences, he’d stand, stumbling for but a moment, his first seven steps.

He’d then approach the only wall that lead out, the northern one, even though the place was closed. He seemed to hesitate as he looked at his body, but moments later he must have decided.

As he’d take a step— and as if not there— he passed through the wall in his entirety. All on lookers were unsure if they should have fled or sounded the alarm seeing as an idea was free. For that’s what it was, what the tests had proven, he was an idea, or at the very least, he had the body of one. As for his mind, if that too had transcended his humanity was another question entirely, seeing as he was still capable of reasoning and following instructions.

They would advance their science still, even as they stumbled through the dark, testing his body further. They would collect tissue samples, and to no one’s surprise, he was immune to all diseases.

As for the unpredictable, his cells multiplied at an exponentially higher rate than any other person to ever live, they also refused die. As for his tenacity, they were allowed more dangerous bouts seeing as their technology was up to par.

As such, they removed limbs, organs, skin, teeth, nails, an eye, an ear, and they all grew back within minutes. They seemed intrigued, and perhaps, they passed a point of no return in all their fascination.

They’d destroy his heart, but thankfully, even that put itself back together within moments. As for his brain, it didn’t seem to exist when interacted with, no material thing could touch it, and so, they were never allowed to harm it.

As for the scans done on his brain, well, his head came up empty, though they were sure it was there, and they knew, because they had seen it. They too lost a fragment of their humanity experimenting with August, and so, they went as far as opening his head up like a blooming flower.

All that they had done would have been bad enough, but seeing as he knew what he had signed up for, what they did next was fine. He was being turned into a soldier, or a mediator, whichever was necessary at the time.

They had locked him in another room, that one was a stark grey, solid, cold, blinding lights from the top, all reinforced stone and metal. It had two entrances, and he knew exactly what it had been used for before, it was obvious. The stench of blood was heavier than the stone, the walls were scratched, cracked and nicked, not to mention, pieces of bone were still scattered about the place.

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They were going to do a live combat test, and they had given him absolutely no weapons. The only thing he wore was a full body suit, similar to those of dark aged divers, that was it. The cold metal doors would pull themselves open, and the creatures they had poached from the abstract would come running out.

They were born from submerging the minds of animals into the abstract and allowing ideas to possess their bodies fully, and those specific creatures were based on bears, grizzly bears.

They were huge, standing at least seven feet tall each, multiple heads and even extra arms at times, covered in inches of tangled blackish brown fur, drool pouring from their nigh unhinged bloodied jaws.

They somehow looked human, in their faces, and even in their twisted bodies, but that was because they were imitating humanity, because they were born from it. They converged onto August like a returning tide, all three of them, claws brandished and teeth primed. Yet, as they approached, he did not so much as flinch, he did not even look at them.

They’d eventually crash, but no blood was spilled, at least, not August’s blood. The thing’s tripped and tumbled over each other, shaking the enclosure with their sheer weight, yet, there was still nothing.

It didn’t take much longer though, as the space inside the box seemed to ripple, and even those ripples reflected off the walls. It would be no more than seconds later that a crimson humanoid ripped itself from the back of one of the grizzly creatures.

It was August, covered in the thing’s blood, bone, filth and all, that wasn’t the most interesting bit though. He emerged holding something, it was illusive, almost like smoke, yet it flailed and kicked as if alive, as if human.

The other creatures saw it and sought to flee, but there was nowhere to escape to, and so they stood leant against the edges of the shrinking room, as the place didn’t seem so big anymore.

In fact, it seemed to get smaller by the second. August crumpled a fist through the thing and it seemed to fade as a loud crack let out, almost like ice. The smoke however, it all went into the man, as if absorbed.

He’d then turn to another of the towering behemoths, but he didn’t look the thing in any of its faces, he looked to its stomach. They had done tests on the creatures before, and that’s where the most anomalous energy was concentrated.

They had consulted with Fate, and she had confirmed that that was where the intrusive ideas had imbedded themselves as to not destroy the host’s motor functions. As such, what August was doing, in essence, was removing parasites from the bodies of mutilated bears, for he did not see them as monsters.

He saw them as victims, relatable. Thus, with no warning of the strength he had acquired, he lunged towards the thing, breaking the floor and closing tens of meters of distance in not even a second.

He’d plunge his hand into its guts, forcing the thing to wail like a cub, yet he did not stop. He’d rip out the intruder in one fell swoop, intestines and all other bits accompanying it. The body would instantaneously die, falling limp, and like the other before it, filling the room with musty vapor, it melted. It melted as if it had been dipped in acid, drowned in it.

He'd repeat the process, though that time he ripped it in half at the waist before absorbing it. As for the last of the things, it stuck to the walls, and as August approached it, it shuffled in the opposite direction.

Its efforts were all in vain though, as I was not the only one who witnessed the room shrink, because it was actually happening. The joke of an idea found itself shuffling across the floor, feet dragging as it fought the moving walls.

It was all for naught still, as it blinked once and its pursuer was gone, not only that, its vison had been offset by about three hundred and sixty degrees. August was perched on its shoulders like a young summer child, his hands wrapped around its mass of three heads, having already destroyed its neck in a singular swift motion.

If the results of his actions were strange, that was the purpose of his own experiment, and he’d get his answer. The thing did not die, even with its spine destroyed, therefore, he had proved his method effective, and he’d go on to use it. The man would spring from his sitting position as if floating, then he’d stand on it.

He’d then jump atop the mutated canid, as for the consequences, the thing was shot into the floor, flattened. He’d land in its remains above an uneasy mist. It was the last of the ideas, and it was in pain from the experience, so much so, that it couldn’t even run, only roll and weep.

He’d step on that one, his foot piercing it with that familiar crack of ice, even a strained scream was heard that time, a dying wail.

The mist, just as before, would enter his body, and it was still an oddity. Those who were viewing the whole thing, those that had organized it, they had systems in place to observe the whole room. As for what they saw, the energy was not being stored in August, it was disappearing, and that was far more interesting.