Mr. Bhryne looked at Issac, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "See you, Issac," he bid farewell, his voice imbued with a mix of respect and affection for the young man in front of him.
WHOOSH!
In the blink of an eye, the hologram projection dissolved into nothingness, leaving Issac alone in the high-tech room as he grappled with the weight of the revelations that had been thrust upon him.
Well, almost alone…
A faint rustling of movement emerged from the shadows, and like a specter materializing, the man in black emerged from the darkness, his presence unsettling yet oddly familiar.
"I hope that you had a productive talk with the boss, Mr. Volante," the man intoned, his voice as smooth as silk but carrying an air of mystery.
Issac let out a weary sigh, his eyes locking onto the figure before him. "Not quite," he responded, a weak smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "But it's not like I have a choice, right?"
The man in black, Mr. Ritchie, returned a smile, retaining his air of mystery while maintaining his formality.
"Hey, what's your name?" Issac inquired, his curiosity piqued by the mysterious figure in black.
"I'm Mr. Ritchie," the man replied, extending his hand for a firm handshake. "Aaron Ritchie."
"I can call you Aaron, right?" Issac asked with a friendly smile on his face, attempting to break the formal barrier.
Mr. Ritchie's expression remained composed as he gently withdrew his hand. "Actually, it's better if you call me Mr. Ritchie," he responded, his tone calm and collected. "I'll be your project supervisor, and it's best to keep things formal, as is the policy around here."
"Alright then, Mr. Ritchie... I really would've liked to say it's a pleasure to meet you," Issac continued, his unease evident in his tone, "But given the circumstances, I'm not feeling particularly at ease."
"It's understandable," Mr. Ritchie replied, nonchalant in his response, his calm demeanor offering little to no insight into the kind of world that they operated in. "The boss did instruct me to handle your introduction with some leniency."
"Leniency?" Issac let out a short, sarcastic chuckle in response to Mr. Ritchie's words, all while trying to mask his growing nervousness. "Are you suggesting this is your idea of being easy on me?"
"Indeed, Mr. Volante," Mr. Ritchie affirmed, seemingly unfazed by the sarcasm in Issac's voice, his faint yet unsettling smile never wavering. "Compared to the challenges faced by other projects, I'd say we have indeed exercised a certain level of restraint in your case."
"Is that so?" Issac was taken aback by Mr. Ritchie's revelation. "If this is your idea of going easy on me, I dread to think what your notion of rigor entails," Issac mused with a nervous laugh, his mind haunted by the grim possibilities.He couldn't help but wonder what horrors he had inadvertently sidestepped.
As he contemplated the implications, Issac's mind raced with unsettling thoughts. 'If this was their notion of leniency, then what horrors might they unleash under harsh circumstances?'
Would they resort to kidnapping or employ torturous methods, even mind control, to bend him to their will? The chilling possibilities sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was merely a disposable pawn in a dangerous game.
"So, can you even tell me what this project is about?" Issac shifted his focus from the unsettling possibilities of the National Intelligence Bureau's methods and turned to Mr. Ritchie, seeking some clarity amidst the secrets.
Mr. Ritchie once again shrugged his shoulders, his smile unwavering as he responded, "Not more than what the boss has already disclosed, Mr. Volante... The only thing you should know is that this facility will serve as your training ground."
"Training?" Issac's brows furrowed in confusion, his puzzlement evident. "What kind of training?" He asked, hoping to grasp the purpose behind his sudden involvement in this covert operation. "I thought you guys brought me here to be a subject for testing those illegal potions."
"The potions are indeed a part of your training," Mr. Ritchie confirmed, adjusting his glasses with a subtle gesture. "However, it's not just about ingesting the substances. We'll also be closely monitoring the effects of those potions on you. In fact, taking the drugs is the least challenging aspect. At least for you."
He snapped his fingers and pointed at Issac, his demeanor becoming more serious as he continued, "The boss has instructed me to elevate your training to a higher level, and that's precisely what we'll be doing."
Issac's response dripped with sarcasm, his words laced with a sense of skepticism. "Aha, well, isn't that just great…" he retorted, his eyes narrowing as he peered at Mr. Ritchie. But Mr. Ritchie remained undeterred, his composure unwavering, as he calmly clarified, "Of course, since the boss has advised me to take it easy on you, feel free to take all the time you need to mentally prepare yourself for the program."
A hushed silence enveloped the room as Issac's mind churned, and his gaze drifted upwards, fixated on the ceiling for what felt like an eternity. With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes, his determination unyielding as he turned his gaze back to Mr. Ritchie, who maintained the same faint smile that had greeted Issac since their first encounter.
"...You're not going to enlighten me about the purpose of this training, right?" Issac's voice broke the silence, a hint of defiance lacing his words. "Am I correct in assuming that's your policy? Don't ask questions?"
"That is indeed our standard practice, yes," Mr. Ritchie responded, his tone measured and calculated.
With a nonchalant shrug, Issac's resolve became evident. "In that case, waiting won't change much," he stated, punctuating his words with purposeful stretches as he stretched his limbs. "It won't significantly alter my perspective, so why bother? Why not just start today? Delaying further would serve no meaningful purpose."
"Are you sure?" Mr. Ritchie's expression remained unchanged, but a hint of concern colored his voice. "There's no need to push yourself."
"I'm not," Issac shook his head. "Whatever doubts and apprehensions I have, they won't vanish with a few days off. What I need is a clear understanding of the purpose behind this training. I need to know what I'm signing up for, and a brief respite ain't gonna solve that."
A moment of contemplation passed as Issac measured his words carefully. "And no matter how I feel about Mr. Bhryne now," he began with a touch of ambiguity, "His experiments did aid me in uncovering who I am as well as my true capabilities. I'm counting on this new program to offer the same revelations, despite whatever ulterior motives you people may have."
Mr. Ritchie's intense gaze lingered on Issac for a few suspenseful seconds before he finally nodded his head, as if coming to a crucial decision. "Very well then," he said cryptically, his tone tinged with a hint of secrecy.
He pivoted on his heel and strode purposefully, heading towards a nearby table that was adorned with state-of-the-art lab equipment. Issac's eyes followed him as he bypassed the sophisticated apparatus and made a beeline for a chilling storage freezer nestled alongside.
Swoosh!
Mr. Ritchie's unwavering gaze fell upon the storage freezer, and with a practiced flick, he swung open the door, revealing an array of test tubes and vials, each containing mysterious concoctions. From the labyrinth of choices, he retrieved a small test tube with calculated precision, then swiftly turned on his heels, traversing the space with a determined stride until he stood face to face with Issac.
Without uttering a word, Mr. Ritchie extended the test tube towards Issac. The young man's brows furrowed in curiosity as he accepted the vial, a mix of apprehension and anxiety dancing in his eyes.
"I'm assuming this is what I'm supposed to be ingesting today?" Issac queried, peering at the test tube with a sense of trepidation. Mr. Ritchie responded with a confirming nod, maintaining his mysterious demeanor.
As Issac began to open the test tube, a sudden urgency emanated from Mr. Ritchie. "Wait," he interjected sharply, arresting Issac's movements. The young man tilted his head inquisitively, glancing at Mr. Ritchie, whose eyes held a hint of gravity.
With a subtle gesture, Mr. Ritchie directed Issac's attention to a mechanical chair tucked away in the corner the room, surrounded by an array of advanced medical devices and an imposing screen suspended overhead. "You might need to sit down for this one," he advised with a sense of caution.
As Issac's gaze darted back and forth between the test tube and the figure of Mr. Ritchie, an unsettling feeling crept over him, amplifying his worry. Nevertheless, he knew resistance was only going to delay things, and he took a seat on the cold, mechanical chair, bracing himself.
"Roll back your sleeve," Mr. Ritchie's voice echoed in his ears, and Issac obeyed, revealing his arm. A sense of trepidation gripped him as Mr. Ritchie deftly stuck two wires that were attached to a machine onto his exposed skin. The screen flickered to life, displaying data regarding Issac's elemental energy.
"You can drink now," Mr. Ritchie instructed with his usual faint smile. Issac's heart raced as he peered at the test tube once again. He then took a deep breath, gathering his resolve, and with a swift motion, he shut his eyes and swallowed the liquid within the test tube.