Lynn stood expressionlessly before the thick, one-way bulletproof glass, holding a cup of instant coffee that had cooled just enough to feel slightly chilly.
On the other side of the glass was a sterile, pure-white room.
A soft mat lay in the center of the room. A little boy of six or seven, with beautiful blond hair and features as delicate as a porcelain doll, was idly playing with colorful plastic building blocks.
The boy's eyes were a clear, pure blue, looking innocent and guileless.
Yet the fingers holding Lynn's coffee trembled slightly beyond his control.
It had been almost three months since he had transmigrated into this world.
For those three months, Lynn had tried every day to awaken a system, an old sage, or any sort of cheat that might exist in his head and turn his fortunes around.
Unfortunately, there was nothing.
He was an ordinary person through and through, with no identity beyond that of a low-level researcher in Vought International's secret underground laboratory.
And the adorable little boy building with blocks behind the glass had the code name John.
Others might not know what that name meant, but Lynn knew all too well.
This was the future Homelander, the superpowered man-child who could see everything around the clock and would slice people in half with heat vision whenever he was unhappy-the most terrifying walking nuclear weapon in human history.
According to the original course of events, this seemingly harmless little blond boy would grow up to regard everyone in the laboratory as insects restricting his freedom. Then, one fine, sunny afternoon, he would slaughter every researcher here, including the person in charge, without leaving a single survivor.
Lynn lowered his head and glanced at the ID badge on his chest.
Wonderful. He was one of those "insects" destined for slaughter, too.
Escape was out of the question. Vought International's security was so tight that not even a fly could get out, let alone a frail office worker like him who could barely hurt a fly.
Fighting back was even more impossible. Even if he mustered every ounce of strength he had, he probably could not break a single strand of little John's hair.
So, after getting through his initial panic, Lynn drew on his exceptional intelligence and fierce desire to survive to devise a simple, blunt plan.
If he could neither beat him nor escape, he would join him.
The future Homelander became a psychopathic killer entirely because these cold-blooded researchers raised him like a lab rat, without affection or proper guidance in his values.
Lynn decided to become a breath of fresh air in this icy laboratory.
He would be little John's father, mother, and mentor in life, raising him into a fine young man with good morals who respected his elders and cared for children.
Even in the worst-case scenario, if the kid still turned irredeemably evil, surely he could spare Lynn's miserable life out of consideration for all those years of devoted guidance?
"Lynn, have you finished your observation report? What are you standing there daydreaming for?"
A stern female voice interrupted Lynn's thoughts.
It was his immediate superior, senior researcher Madelyn.
She always wore a stern expression and looked at everyone as though they were a pile of experimental data.
"It's finished, supervisor."
Lynn immediately put on a warm, thoroughly professional smile and handed over the folder tucked under his arm.
"John's mood has been very stable today. The logical structure of his block arrangements has improved by fifteen percent over yesterday, and he has shown no signs of irritability."
Madelyn quickly leafed through the report and gave a cold snort.
"Don't look at the test subject with that disgusting expression, Lynn. I've warned you many times not to project any unnecessary feelings onto him. He is company property, a weapon, not your little nephew."
"I understand, supervisor. I was only making an objective assessment."
Lynn readily agreed, but inwardly he scoffed.
Raising a child with the power of a god as an emotionless weapon-you people won't even know what killed you.
"Go take him his lunch. Remember, put the tray down and leave. Don't talk to him any more than necessary."
Madelyn waved an impatient hand.
"Yes."
Lynn turned and walked to the food preparation room. He picked up the bland, specially prepared lunch consisting entirely of nutrient paste and high-protein mush, took a deep breath, and swiped open the heavy metal door.
As the airlock released air with a muffled hiss, Lynn entered the pure-white room.
Hearing the sound, little John stopped what he was doing and looked up at Lynn.
There was no anger in those clear blue eyes, only the numbness of someone kept in a cage for years and a barely perceptible hint of anticipation.
Of everyone in the laboratory, only Lynn entered without wearing that frightening full protective suit, and only Lynn smiled at him.
"Hi, John. How are you feeling today?"
Ignoring Madelyn's warning, Lynn plopped straight down onto the mat and pushed the tray in front of the little boy.
"It tastes awful."
Little John glanced at the green mush on the tray and frowned. "I hate how it tastes."
"I know it doesn't taste good."
Lynn sighed and produced a beautifully wrapped strawberry hard candy from his white coat pocket as though by magic, waving it before little John's eyes. "But look. As long as you're good and eat all this stuff that's good for you, you'll get an extra reward. This is our secret deal."
Little John's eyes lit up. He snatched the candy and clutched it tightly in his palm, then picked up his spoon and began shoveling the awful nutrient paste into his mouth as though completing an assignment.
Watching him wolf it down, Lynn nodded inwardly.
Good. Step one, establishing trust and dependence, has met with initial success.
Next comes shaping his values.
"John, do you know why we make you eat these things and take all those boring tests?"
Lynn lowered his voice, his tone turning mysterious.
Little John swallowed a mouthful of mush and shook his head.
"Because you're different from the ordinary people outside. You were born with great power."
Lynn looked earnestly into his eyes. "And people with great power are destined to become heroes."
"Heroes?" Little John found the word unfamiliar.
"That's right, heroes. There are lots and lots of bad people in this world. They're selfish and greedy. They bully the weak and break the rules."
Lynn embarked on his grand campaign of persuasion. "And a hero's duty is to eliminate those bad people and uphold justice."
Little John blinked, only half understanding. "Like in cartoons? Defeating the bad guys?"
"It's much more serious than that."
Lynn raised one finger, his tone becoming especially grave.
"John, you must remember that justice is absolute. Black is black, and white is white. There is no middle ground. Bad people are bad because they've done bad things. When you face bad people, you don't need to feel any sympathy or mercy."
Lynn had originally only wanted to teach him not to kill innocent people indiscriminately and to distinguish good from bad.
But he felt that a child might not understand overly complicated moral dilemmas, so he simply chose the most extreme, black-and-white way to drill it into him.
"If you find someone doing something bad, like stealing, hitting people, or breaking the rules, what should you do?" Lynn posed a question.
Little John tilted his head and thought for a moment. "Tell the supervisor?"
"Wrong!" Lynn slapped his thigh. "The supervisor might forgive them or make excuses for them. But justice accepts no excuses! When you face evil, what you must do is use your power to punish them without mercy! Eradicate evil at its root so they never have another chance to do bad things. That's what a true hero should do!"
Little John froze. Something seemed to be taking root and sprouting in his pure blue eyes.
He looked at his small, fair hands and thoughtfully repeated Lynn's words. "Absolute... justice. Punish... without mercy."
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