It has been at least three days, but Fred did not have a wink of sleep. His mouth agape even when he worked, the bags under his eyes stretched and his bald spot conquered its neighboring territory. But his eyes still shone with his inner fire. He was close to what he envisioned and he needed it.

The room was lit only by the screens on his sides, reporting various data about his experiment, be it healthy tissue samples, chemical reactions and similar things. By just a glance, Fred managed to grasp all the data he needed and continued his work.

Holding vials with liquids of all origins, he slowly merged them together, under the strict conditions of his own formula. Vapor and bubbles appeared there, a natural occurring vortex blended another two liquids perfectly here. He successfully merged two otherwise conflicting elements resulting in a completely new one, never before seen. But that did not sway Fred, he did not even smile at his discovery. His vision promised him so much more than that.

His hands moved swiftly and accurately, showing no signs of the fatigue that tried to defeat him. His head clearer than ever and his life finally with a purpose.

The room was otherwise full of junk. A stopwatch capable of evaluating the air purity, a headband that tightened when someone was lying, a white rabbit plushie, rid with deadly lasers, capable of destroying a small district.

A few days ago, he would call it inventions. A few days ago, he would even be proud. But now, he had a lot more than meager aspirations and beliefs, he would finish this magnum opus of his.

The final solution was in a vial. Now as per his dreams, he had to leave it to reach equilibrium first. Then he would sample it and then he would go public with it.

Even now, when he wasn’t focused on his work, he still could not sleep. Possibilities with what he created were endless. Surely, this was the biggest discovery since fire itself. He was to be revered for this, forever remembered. Though remembered he would have no need to be.

For the first time ever, he was glad to have his talent. From a ripe age of nine, he could see what he would make before he made it. It appeared to him in dreams, visions. He always managed to create exactly what he wanted to. That was why he was one of the more reputable researches in Fell-tech.

His life's recollection has ended abruptly, as the liquid in the vial shined with golden light. As his dream showed. Fred breathed slowly in anticipation. He walked over to the vial and opened it.

He was nervous, stressed, doubting himself. What if he created a poison? What if he failed in some of the steps? Maybe he should try again? But he shook the thoughts away. They were thoughts of a scientist much inferior to him, a scientist he was no more.

He drank the contents. The liquid burned with heat and cold, it cut his throat but it was gentle, slimy and clear. He drank the whole of it. Then he put the vial on the table. He expected something. A violent outburst in his organs, maybe a clear manifestation on his skin; a sense of strength and vitality. But nothing came, he was still exhausted, his muscles twitching from holding his weight without rest.

But he must have succeeded. He must have. He knew that. He knew that enough to look around and grab the first knife he found. He knew that enough to pierce his hand with it. He still knew even when he was looking through the hole in his hand.

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And he knew that he succeeded, when the muscle tissue in his hand filled the hole and as the fibers connected. It took less than five seconds for the healing process, which was unheard of until today. Some tech-ups were capable of somewhat accelerated healing, but they were machines. Prone to failure and unreliable. They also affected only the part where they were inserted.

He grabbed the knife and stabbed himself in the gut. He fell to the ground, feeling his own blood escape his insides. He pulled the blade out and turned on his back. He weakly grabbed a mirror and looked on, as his transformed body healed itself with incredible speed. Taking no more than eight seconds, his stomach looked undisturbed, other than the blood that was already on the ground.

The blood stayed on the ground?

After a few similar tests, Fred was flabbergasted. He did not know how, but it was like he had lost no blood at all. Although there was at least two liters on the ground, he had his normal amount flowing in his veins. Had he somehow regained blood? How was that possible?

He tried again, this time catching as much of his blood in big round vials for keeping. But when he measured again, all his blood was still in his body. He had been so dumbfounded, he had to try five more times. Ending with ten two-liter vials filled with his own blood. In the span of five minutes.

But that was just the beginning, he had to find out all the miraculous effects of his chemical substance.

He chopped off his pinky, but it regrew. He sawed off his hand, but it regrew. He took out a kidney, but it grew back again.

There was still a number of ways to die, but a total body evisceration was not one of them.

In bliss, he called his superior and announced his findings to him. It took mere fifteen minutes for the man to arrive. He came with four guards, positioning two of them outside. Fred understood, it was well to protect such a discovery.

"How much did you make?" he inquired.

"Just one for now," answered Fred honestly "But I am completely capable of producing more."

The superior scanned the vials of organs that Fred already harvested from his body. The gaze of the man kept switching between the Fred and his insides, when he seemed to come to a conclusion.

"I need to see it." he said and handed Fred his knife.

The pain of taking your own organs wasn’t something you could get used to, but Fred understood the man's doubts. It's not every day that you find an immortality serum.

Fred gone for his intestines, cutting a meter long section and handing it to his superior, he then fell to the ground. His body repaired itself as he dropped. The three man observing him all looked at him in surprise, but the fact was undeniable. He was immortal. There was no way to test if the process of aging was averted, but he was confident it was.

"Again please, go for the heart." said his boss.

As much as Fred did not want that for sentimental reasons, he still followed the order, cutting out his own heart, staying just barely awake.

Suddenly his boss made a sound and the two guards jumped him. They cuffed him to a metal pipe on the wall and handed the heart to their boss. It was still lightly beating in his hand, though it stopped fairly quick. Before Fred could regain enough energy to speak, a leather belt with a cotton ball was placed over his mouth.

Two guards from the outside brought an iron table inside and they cuffed him to it. His hands, legs, and head was bound, making him unable to move at all.

Than they started cutting, again and again and again. They paid no mind to their amateurish technique. They did not care when Fred tried to scream and shout. They did not care that the formula for life longevity was only in Fred's mind and that breaking that mind would make it disappear forever.

They just put his organs into boxes. Again and again.