"Basically, as I said, the orphanage was a program conducted by the government to produce human weapons."

"They named it Project Epoch," Noel began, his voice steady but tinged with bitterness.

"Project Epoch?" James echoed, furrowing his brow, a sense of dread creeping into his voice.

"Yes. This project involved two steps. The first one was raising kids to awaken some potential superpowers in them."

"Orphans and poor children were ideal for this purpose since no one would care if they just disappeared. So, they used the orphanage as a cover," Noel explained, his eyes darkening with the memory.

Each word seemed to weigh heavily on his tongue, as if dragging him back to those haunted corridors.

"How did you get into that orphanage?" James leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued and empathy growing.

"They offered me food, clothes, and a place to live," Noel began, his voice a mix of bitterness and resignation.

He paused, swallowing hard as if to push down the memories.

"I was starving, barely surviving on scraps. So I agreed to stay with them. I thought it would be a normal orphanage." His voice cracked slightly, the facade of indifference beginning to crumble.

"But upon entering it, I realized it was the complete opposite of normal. It was a place where nightmares were born."

"Did you ever try to escape?" James's eyes softened with understanding, the gravity of Noel's words sinking in.

"Why would I?" Noel replied, a bitter smile playing on his lips, though it never reached his eyes.

"They were providing me proper food, even if just once a day. It was far better than dying hungry outside. At least there, I had something to eat."

His voice wavered, and for a moment, the hardened exterior fell away, revealing the scared child who had once believed in a false promise of safety.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken pain, the weight of Noel's past hanging heavily in the air.

"Okay. Can you explain a little more about this orphanage?" James nodded, taking in Noel's words.

"Well, there each child had to follow a set routine," Noel began, his voice carrying the weight of old memories.

"The routine was nothing but relentless training to awaken our abilities and incessant brainwashing to ensure loyalty. Every day was a grueling cycle of physical and mental exercises, pushing us to the brink."

"Those children who disobeyed or showed any strange behavior were disposed of without a second thought. They simply vanished, as if they had never existed."

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James's eyes narrowed in concern, his heart aching for the children subjected to such cruelty.

"Were you not affected by their brainwashing?"

"No," Noel replied, a grim smile playing on his lips. "I had already seen too much to be affected by their mere speeches and manipulations. I had learned early on that trust was a luxury I couldn't afford."

James's curiosity deepened, a sense of protectiveness stirring within him.

"Are you talking about what happened to your family?"

Noel's eyes flickered with a painful glint, the memory of his family a raw wound that had never truly healed.

"So, you already know about it?"

James nodded, his tone gentle but firm.

"I had to investigate your background. It's part of my job. But now, it's also about understanding you. Anyways, you should continue."

"As you say," Noel said, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"After months of enduring the gruesome routine, if any children showed signs of potential awakening, their information was sent to the main branch. From there, a few people would come to test and pick those children. It was like being in a twisted lottery, hoping to be chosen but fearing what it would mean."

He paused, his voice trembling slightly.

"The testing was brutal. They pushed us beyond our limits, both physically and mentally. And those who didn't make the cut... they were discarded like broken toys. Every time someone was taken away, the rest of us were left wondering if we'd be next. It was a constant state of fear and uncertainty."

James leaned in, his expression serious.

"And after that?"

Noel took a deep breath, his eyes clouding with painful memories.

"After that comes the second step. This step involves artificially enhancing the powers of those children. They did this by conducting various experiments on us."

James's gaze hardened, his heart aching for the tormented souls.

"What kind of experiments?"

"Physical, mental, psychological—all sorts of experiments," Noel said, his voice heavy with the weight of his memories.

He hesitated, as if the words themselves were too painful to speak.

"I don't exactly remember all the details, but I recall enough to know it was a nightmare. Some were given experimental drugs, injections that burned through our veins, supposedly to boost our physical and mental abilities."

"Others were exposed to extreme environments—heat that blistered our skin, cold that froze us to the bone, crushing pressure that made it hard to breathe. They watched, took notes, never flinched."

James's eyes darkened with anger. "That's inhuman. And the psychological experiments?"

"They were the worst," Noel whispered, his voice barely audible.

"They used our deepest fears and traumas against us, triggering latent powers through pain and terror. They'd put us in simulated scenarios where we had to face our worst nightmares."

"Some of us were forced to relive the deaths of loved ones, over and over. Others were confronted with their darkest fears—drowning, heights, isolation. It broke many of us, twisted our minds until we couldn't tell reality from illusion."

James's heart broke as he listened, the horror of Noel's experiences cutting deep.

"How did you survive?"

"I held on to the hope that one day, I would escape and punish them," Noel said, his voice stronger now, fueled by a fierce determination.

"I couldn't let them win, not after everything they took from me."

James's eyes were sharp, searching Noel's face for any hidden truths.

"And after all these experiments, what happened to those who survived?"

Noel's expression hardened.

"The survivors were used by the government. They became tools, weapons to be deployed whenever and wherever they were needed. We were sent on missions, often with little chance of survival, always expendable."

James leaned in closer, his tone insistent.

"Is that all you know?"

Noel nodded slowly, his eyes reflecting a deep, unending sorrow.

"Yes, that's all I know. Each day was a battle to retain some semblance of humanity, to remember who I was before they turned us into monsters."

James pressed on, desperation creeping into his voice. "Do you know anything else? Anything at all that could help us stop this?"

Noel hesitated for a moment, then his eyes lit up with a spark of realization.

"Oh yeah, I guess I know who could be the senior scientist behind all those experiments."

James leaned in closer, his heart pounding with anticipation.

"Who is it?"

"The person who created the armor your officers were wearing today." Noel's voice was calm but resolute.

"Are you sure?" James's eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes. I'm sure. The same technology, the same cruel efficiency. It has to be them." Noel nodded firmly.

James's mind raced, connecting the dots.

He had always suspected there was a mastermind behind the advanced technology and twisted experiments, but this confirmation added a new dimension to his investigation.

"Hmm..." he murmured, deep in thought.

Noel shifted slightly, his exhaustion evident in the lines of his face and the slump of his shoulders.

The weight of his revelations had clearly taken a toll on him.

"Now, will you let me go?"

James looked at Noel, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

He knew that letting Noel go was the right thing to do, but he had one last question burning in his mind.

"Sure. But before you go, answer my one last question."

Noel's curiosity was piqued, a flicker of caution in his eyes. "Ask."

James took a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with a desperate need to understand.

"What is the source of your power?"

At his question, Noel's demeanor shifted.

His eyes darkened, and a deep, unspoken pain surfaced.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy, the silence palpable.