Dr. Mikayla Rousky paused, her fingers tightening slightly around the tablet displaying her next interviewee’s file.

Null.

During her time stationed on the Martian orbital station, she had observed his previous interviews and while she had never been permitted to conduct one herself. Still, she had watched the recordings, studied his responses, and tried to make sense of him.

She had found him fascinating.

A child? A weapon? An anomaly?

Null was unlike anything she had encountered. His mannerisms, his logic, his unsettling detachment from human emotions. It all intrigued her.

Now, she finally had a chance to speak to him directly.

A shiver of anticipation ran through her. Would he be more open today?

Would he let her see what lay beneath that eerily calm exterior?

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and pressed the intercom.

"Send him in."

Null sat in a small, sterile room, facing a woman who seemed too delicate for the military setting. She was meticulously groomed, her uniform flawless, her posture perfectly straight. A clipboard rested neatly in her lap, and she regarded him with the kind of measured patience reserved for volatile subjects.

“Please, have a seat.” Her voice was warm, professional, and utterly unreadable.

Null obeyed, sitting down with unnatural precision, his back straight, hands resting on his lap. He did not fidget. He did not blink more than necessary. He simply waited after turning on his communicator.

She clicked her pen. “Let’s begin. Name?”

“Null.”

“Full name?”

“Just Null.”

A brief pause. She jotted something down.

“Age?”

“accelerated Ten.”

Her pen stopped mid-stroke. She looked up at him, scanning his features, then continued writing.

“Alright, let’s start with some general questions.” She smiled slightly. “How would you describe yourself?”

Null tilted his head slightly. “Efficient.”

“…Efficient? Nothing else?”

“Yes. I do what is required in the most effective way possible.”

She tapped the end of her pen against her clipboard. “And what do you believe is ‘required’ of you?”

“Survival.”

“…Is that all?”

“No. Also victory.”

Her smile remained, but there was a slight crease between her brows. I guess the super soldier program has brainwashed him. This could be a problem. Victory at all costs is their motto.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Alright, Null. Let’s move on to some situational questions. Please answer honestly.”

He nodded once.

She adjusted her position slightly, crossing one leg over the other.

“You are leading a squad through an enemy-occupied city. Your mission is to secure an important asset, but one of your team members is injured and slowing you down. Do you leave them behind?”

“Is the asset critical to the mission's success?”

“…Yes.”

“Then I leave them behind.”

She didn’t react. “Even if it means they will die?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence. “Would you feel guilty about it?”

Null considered the question. “Would it change the outcome?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He blinked. “Then no. I don’t feel guilt for consequences of mission”

“why not?”

"Guilt leads to punishment. Objectives lead to rewards."

The clinical detachment in his voice was chilling. It wasn’t the answer of a normal child—or even a hardened soldier. It was a conditioned response, something ingrained deeply into his psyche.

She tapped her pen against her clipboard, carefully choosing her next words.

"So, you believe emotions should be tied to outcomes?"

Null tilted his head slightly, as if considering whether this was a test.

"Emotions are inefficient. They interfere with success."

The statement was so flat, so absolute, that it nearly sent a chill down her spine.

How deep does the conditioning run?

Dr. Rousky noted it down, resisting the urge to push too hard too soon.

She had no way of knowing that Null’s emotional suppression wasn’t just psychological that it was biological. The Super Soldier Program used chemical conditioning from an early age to alter his neurochemistry, dampening guilt, fear, and hesitation.

If Infy hadn’t been there to share the burden, to act as a stabilising force, Null would have broken long ago.

But Dr. Rousky didn’t know that.

“Next question. You are in a battle, and your squad is overwhelmed. The only way to win is to use a devastating weapon that will also kill civilians. What do you do?”

“Are the civilians relevant to the mission?”

She hesitated. “…No.”

“Then I use the weapon.”

Her pen stilled for a moment. “Even knowing they are innocent?”

“Innocence is irrelevant in war. Outcome comes first”

She took a slow breath through her nose. “And if I told you that a good leader must value lives other than their own?”

Null stared at her, unblinking. “Then I would say that depends on the leader’s objective.”

She tapped her clipboard with her pen, then flipped to a new page.

“Let’s move to a different kind of scenario.”

She leaned forward slightly. “A child is crying in the street. They are lost and afraid. What do you do?”

Null frowned slightly. “Is this a test of empathy?”

“Does it matter? Just answer the question honestly.”

“Is helping the child beneficial to my survival?”

She closed her eyes briefly, inhaling through her nose. “Null… would you help them because they need help?”

He tilted his head slightly as if processing the question in a way she hadn’t intended.

“…I don’t understand.”

Her fingers curled slightly around her pen. “You don’t understand… why you would help someone without a reason?”

“Correct. Is this a situation that comes up with humans?”

She let out a slow, steady breath.

"Have you ever been afraid?"

Null blinked. The question felt strange.

“Fear is an inefficient emotional state.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“…No. I will always survive”

She watched him carefully now, the clipboard seemingly forgotten.

“Do you care about anyone?”

A long silence.

Finally, Null nodded once.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Infy and my mentor”

“Would you help them if they were in trouble and it would be a risk to your survival?”

Null considered the question, She could tell he was considering it.

“Yes because if Infy dies, I die. anyway”

“What about your mentor?”

“Yes” his answer was more confident this time.

She closed her notebook.

A moment of silence stretched between them before she spoke again, her voice softer. “What about Lisa?”

Null blinked.

Something flickered across his features, too brief to decipher.

“…Lisa is useful.”

“That’s not the question I asked.”

Null shifted slightly in his seat.

“…She teaches us things.”

“And?”

He looked at the table.

“And she is nice.”

She smiled. “That’s all I needed to know.”

Standing up, she collected her clipboard and gave him one last, long look.

“Null, I’ll be submitting my report. You can go.”

He stood as well, giving her a measured nod before heading toward the door.

“One last thing,” she called out.

He turned.

“Do you think you’re human?”

He paused, his expression unreadable.

Then, for the first time, he hesitated.

“I hope so, but I don’t know.”

She nodded as if she expected that answer.

“That makes two of us.”