Chapter 58: Anna and Jason's Interaction

The dimly lit corridor echoed with the hum of machinery, a sound that had long become a part of Anna’s new existence. It had been weeks since her transformation, weeks since Dr. Machinist had claimed her, shaped her into something that no longer resembled the woman she had been. The memories of her old life were fading, slipping through her mind like sand through her fingers. But some things remained—the flicker of rebellion, the remnants of who she once was.

She stood in the hallway, motionless, like a sentry guarding the depths of Dr. Machinist’s lair. Her movements were mechanical now, smooth but devoid of grace or emotion. She wasn’t human anymore—not really. Her once soft features, the warmth of her skin, the pulse of her heartbeat—gone, replaced by cold metal and circuits that hummed and buzzed with life. But there was still a spark inside her, a faint ember of resistance that refused to be extinguished, no matter how much Dr. Machinist tried to bury it.

As the sound of footsteps approached, Anna turned her head, her red, glowing eyes locking onto the figure that came into view. Jason. He was a new arrival—a test subject like she once had been, though his circumstances seemed to be different. He was human—at least, still largely human. Unlike Anna, he hadn’t been completely remade. He still had the semblance of a man, but there was something about him that made her question everything. His eyes held a flicker of defiance, something she hadn’t seen in so long that it took her by surprise.

He stopped in front of her, his gaze searching her face, his expression unreadable.

Jason: “You’re different. What happened to you?”

Anna didn’t respond right away. Her mind buzzed with the question—what had happened to her? She was no longer the woman she had once been. She was a weapon, a tool forged by Dr. Machinist’s twisted hands. But there was a part of her—no matter how small—that still remembered what it was like to be human. What it was like to feel.

Anna: “What do you want?” Her voice came out in a cold, mechanical rasp, the sound of metal scraping against metal. It wasn’t her voice anymore—not the one that had once been warm and full of life. It was a voice that was nothing more than a tool, an instrument for Dr. Machinist’s bidding.

Jason studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing as he seemed to weigh his words carefully.

Jason: “I don’t know. I guess I’m just trying to understand.” His voice was hesitant, but there was a quiet strength to it. He wasn’t like the others. The other test subjects, the ones who had been here before him—they were broken, submissive, willing to bend to Dr. Machinist’s will. But Jason was different. He was fighting it, though Anna couldn’t quite tell if it was out of fear, defiance, or something else entirely.

Anna felt something stir inside her—an emotion, maybe? It was fleeting, but it was there, a reminder of the human side she was losing with every passing day. She could still feel something, a remnant of what she once was. But was it enough? Would it be enough to break free from Dr. Machinist’s grip?

Anna: “Understand? There’s nothing to understand. I’m not... I’m not even human anymore. I’m his creation. His weapon. And so are you, if you don’t stop fighting.”

Jason’s eyes softened, though the wariness never left them. He took a step closer, his presence a stark contrast to Anna’s cold, mechanical form.

Jason: “I’m not like you. I won’t just let him do this to me. I won’t become his... thing.”

Anna could see the resolve in his eyes, the fire that burned within him. It was the same fire she used to have, before everything had been taken from her. Before she had become Dr. Machinist’s experiment, his perfect creation.

But that fire—it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to escape the chains that bound her, that kept her tied to Dr. Machinist’s will.

Anna: “It’s too late for me. Don’t waste your fight. You can’t win. Not against him.”

Jason’s face tightened, but he didn’t back away. He stood firm, as if willing himself to break through the wall Anna had built around herself.

Jason: “Maybe I can’t win alone. But I’m not going to let him keep you like this. I can see it, Anna. I can see you still have something left inside you. A part of you is still human. And I’m not going to let it die.”

Anna looked at him, the flickering ember inside her chest growing just a little brighter. She felt a strange pull toward him—his words, his determination. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that there was still hope, that there was a way out of this nightmare.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized the truth. There was no way out. Not for her.

Anna: “You don’t know what you’re asking for. I’m already gone. There’s no coming back from this. I’m his now. And you’ll be too, if you keep fighting.”

Jason stepped closer, his hand reaching out, as though he could somehow touch the last remnants of her humanity. Anna recoiled, but not in fear—she recoiled because she wasn’t sure what would happen if he touched her. Would it hurt? Would it remind her of the woman she had once been?

Jason: “Then let me help you. Let me be the one to show you that you don’t have to belong to him. Not completely. You don’t have to give up everything.”

For a moment, Anna didn’t know how to respond. She felt lost, adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that maybe there was still a way to fight back, to reclaim some of what had been stolen from her. But the other part of her—the part that Dr. Machinist had molded, that was cold and unfeeling—knew the truth. She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t escape him.

Anna: “You don’t understand. I’m... I’m broken. I can’t be fixed. Not by you. Not by anyone.”

Jason’s hand dropped to his side, but his expression remained unwavering.

Jason: “Maybe not. But I’m not giving up on you. You’re not just a machine. You’re still Anna. And I’m not going to let you forget that.”

Anna didn’t know what to say. The words were stuck in her throat, trapped by the weight of her own transformation, her own despair. She wanted to scream at him, tell him to run, to save himself from Dr. Machinist’s grasp. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t want him to leave.

And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to give up either. Not entirely.

For the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope—however small—began to grow within her.

the torture

Anna’s gaze hardened as Jason spoke his words of defiance, the small ember of hope that flickered inside her threatening to burn out. She had been there before—had tried to resist, to fight back against Dr. Machinist. She had believed once, long ago, that there was a way out. But that was before the relentless torture began. Before the days of unending electrical torment. Before Dr. Machinist’s mechanical mind had twisted them beyond recognition.

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Anna's fingers twitched, the faintest echo of a movement that hinted at the humanity she had once held. But those days, those moments of rebellion, were gone. She had been broken long ago—along with everyone else who had been subjected to Dr. Machinist’s cruel whims.

For over a month, they had been confined to metal chambers—bodies bound and restrained, unable to move. Electrodes attached to their skin, pumping them full of 500,000 volts every second, 24/7, with no break. The pain was unimaginable, but it wasn’t just the physical torment that had shattered them. It was the utter, soul-crushing certainty that there was no escape. No salvation. No hope.

The voltage coursing through their bodies had been designed to prevent their death. Their mecha bodies—enhanced with technology far beyond human understanding—could withstand it. They were designed to endure, to suffer, to break. And break they did.

Their wills were shattered over time, the constant barrage of electricity wearing them down until they no longer knew where the pain ended and they began. The metal walls of their chambers closed in on them, a constant reminder that resistance was not an option. There was no fighting Dr. Machinist—no fighting an immortal, country-level doctor who had control over their lives, their fates.

It had been weeks of torture. Weeks where Anna had been pushed beyond her limits. She had tried. She had begged. But Dr. Machinist was relentless. His cruel experiments were never meant for them to win. He had known, long ago, that their resistance was futile. That they could only endure. And when endurance wore thin, when the screams of pain and the sounds of begging filled the sterile rooms of the lab, he would remind them—remind them that they were nothing.

Now, as Jason’s voice cut through the silence, Anna found herself torn. She wanted to believe in his words—wanted to believe that he was different. That his fight against Dr. Machinist could somehow awaken something within her. But as her memory recalled those dark days—those endless hours of electric torment—it became clear. Resistance was pointless.

Her body, once filled with warmth and human emotion, was now a shell. Her mind, though still capable of thought, had long since been reduced to numbness. She had learned the hard way: there was no defeating Dr. Machinist. No standing against him.

Anna: “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Her voice, hollow and strained, barely rose above a whisper. “You can’t fight him. You can’t win.”

Jason’s eyes never left hers, his face set in a determined expression. But he had no idea. He had never experienced the hell that Anna and the others had. He had never felt the weight of the electricity coursing through his veins, the pain that would have driven any normal human to insanity. He didn’t understand what it meant to be broken, to have every ounce of hope torn away until only the hollow shell of a person remained.

Jason: “I don’t care about him. I care about you. You’re not just a weapon, Anna. You’re more than this. And I won’t let you believe you’re not.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t get it. He has everything. He has control over us. Over everything we are. And you want to fight him? To what end? To suffer more? To die in some meaningless rebellion?”

For a moment, the silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Anna could see the frustration building in Jason’s expression. He wasn’t backing down. But she could feel the inevitable conclusion of this conversation creeping closer. She had seen it in so many others before him—the naivety, the belief that somehow they could outsmart or overpower Dr. Machinist. It never worked. And it never would.

Anna: “This isn’t a fight you can win. Not against him. He’s immortal, Jason. His reach is beyond anything we can comprehend. Resistance is... pointless.”

Jason’s eyes flickered with something close to sadness, as if the weight of her words had finally begun to seep in. But still, there was that glimmer of hope, a stubborn refusal to accept defeat.

Jason: “I’m not giving up. And neither should you.”

Anna let out a bitter laugh, a sound that felt foreign to her, as if the laughter itself didn’t belong to her. “You’re still clinging to hope, aren’t you? Hope that somehow, things will change. That there’s a way out. But there isn’t. We’re nothing more than experiments. We were never meant to escape. Never meant to be free.”

Jason’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw set in determination. He wasn’t backing down. But Anna knew—it didn’t matter. They were trapped. She had tried so many times before to defy Dr. Machinist, but each time had ended in more suffering. Her body, her will, her spirit—had all been bent to his whims.

Anna: “It’s over, Jason. The fight is over. There’s no way out.”

But then, something shifted. A faint, barely perceptible flicker of something inside her—the smallest inkling of defiance that refused to be extinguished.

Perhaps it wasn’t the fight against Dr. Machinist that mattered anymore. Perhaps it was the fight for herself—for whatever little piece of humanity she could still hold onto.

But was it enough? Would that small flicker be enough to break free from the chains that bound them all?

For the first time, Anna wasn’t so sure anymore.

The Breaking Point

The world around Anna faded into a blur of painful memories, suffocating her like a vice. The cold, sterile chambers where she had once hoped for an escape were now prisons of her own mind. The relentless shock therapy, the 500,000 volts coursing through her body every second, was a constant presence—an ever-present reminder of her inability to escape.

The first few weeks had been torture—truly. But a month in, something had shifted. Her body had started to adjust, though ‘adjust’ was a cruel word to use. It was not adaptation—it was simply a numbing of the senses, a dulling of the pain, because there was no way to endure something so unrelenting without some form of mental shutdown. The electroshock had stripped away any semblance of her former self, of her will, of her humanity.

And then came the poison.

Dr. Machinist, in his infinite cruelty, had introduced a substance into their veins—something he had designed himself. A toxin that amplified the electrical pain a thousandfold. The poison didn’t just enhance the physical agony—it twisted every nerve in her body, every muscle, every bone. Every shock, every surge of voltage, was accompanied by a deep, burning sensation in her cells, as though her very body was being eaten away from the inside.

For one full year, it had been this way. Day in, day out. There was no escape. No respite. Not a single moment of relief.

The poison took hold of Anna’s body—filling her with waves of nausea, dizziness, and weakness, as if she were dying slowly, over and over again. Her every movement felt like an insurmountable task. Even the act of breathing, of blinking, became an excruciating exercise of endurance.

But it was more than just the physical torture. It was the mental strain—the brokenness that crept into her mind, her soul, each second she was subjected to this hellish existence. She was aware, at all times, of her helplessness. Of her utter insignificance in the grand scheme of Dr. Machinist’s plans. He controlled her. Controlled them all.

And she knew it. She had always known it.

But what hurt more than the poison, more than the electric currents scorching her insides, was the crushing truth that seeped into her every thought: this was her life now.

She had been so naive before. She had hoped. She had fought. She had believed that there could be an end to this, that there could be a moment of release. But each attempt to resist, each desperate cry for help, was met with only more pain.

Jason... His presence was the one remaining shred of humanity that made her question everything. His voice, though tinged with anger and frustration, still carried the smallest echo of hope. He hadn’t been broken yet. He hadn’t lost himself entirely. But Anna had seen the cracks in his resolve. She had watched the way his eyes began to dull with each passing day. She knew it wouldn't be long before he broke, just as she had.

The problem was, the fight didn’t matter anymore. There was no rebellion to lead, no war to win. There was only the endless, suffocating agony of their existence.

Dr. Machinist had made them all into living weapons, but he had also made them into living corpses—a hollow shell of humanity, forced to endure without purpose. Without a future.

And then came the final break.

The moment when the mind can no longer endure. When the spirit is broken beyond repair.

It didn’t happen all at once. It was a slow, creeping erosion. But there came a point—after a year of this hell—when the light in Anna’s eyes finally went out. She no longer felt the sting of the shocks, nor did she feel the poison flooding her veins. She had become numb, utterly indifferent to the torment. Her body was still there, still enduring—but she, Anna, had ceased to exist as she once had. She was no longer human. She was just a machine—one of Dr. Machinist’s creations. Another broken tool.

The smallest flicker of resistance she had clung to, even when Jason first entered her life, was now nothing more than a forgotten memory. The hope that once had burned so brightly in her heart had been extinguished by the poison, the volts, and the never-ending torture.

She was done.

And when she met Jason’s gaze that final time, there was nothing left to say. He was still trying—still holding onto that fragile hope, that belief that there could be something more. But for Anna, that spark was gone. There was nothing more. Not for her. Not for any of them.

She spoke, her voice hollow, her eyes void of any emotion. “You’re wasting your time.”

Jason’s eyes widened with shock, his face etched with pain as he took a step toward her, reaching out to her. But Anna, in her apathy, barely reacted. Her body had become a machine, and her mind—a dead, cold thing that couldn’t be reasoned with. “There’s nothing left. There’s nothing to fight for.”

It was a death sentence, not just of her body but of her soul. She had given up.

And the worst part? She no longer cared.

The final break had come. And it was the quietest thing in the world.

Anna was gone.