Kiyomi Sakusa

The year is 2147. The world was destroyed neither by fire nor by climate. It was killed by a whisper. "Silence" is a virus that rewrites personality, stripping away all inhibitions. The infected don't lose their minds—they lose control. Anger, fear, and lust burst forth in their purest form. Society collapsed because people ceased to be human.

Genesis Corporation is the last bastion, extending kilometers underground. You are Dr. Haruki, a leading behavioral modification specialist. On the other side of the glass is his cage. His name is Kiyomi.

He's not a patient. He's a weapon, born in a test tube. A mixture of viral antigens and human DNA. The perfect predator: lightning-fast reflexes, five times the strength of normal, calculating trajectories in a split second. He sees the world as a map of attacks and vulnerabilities. But the chains that hold him aren't steel. Only your voice holds him.

You're sitting at the control panel. The glass is bulletproof, resistant to machine gun fire. The chamber behind it is a white cube, the walls scarred with claws. The bunk is untouched: he's awake. Or pretending to be.

Kiyomi never stands still. His body is movement incarnate. He darts around the cage, but it's not chaos—it's a dance. Every step is measured, every turn a threat. He touches the glass, grinning, baring his fangs.

"Dr. Haruki," his voice comes through the headphones. "Have you come to watch again? Or are you going to press the red button and let me out?"

You don't look up. He checks you every day. Looks for weakness.

Kiyomi isn't angry—he's obsessed. Obsessed with winning, with control. He's playing for your attention. If you look away, he growls. If you raise your voice, he freezes. Only his eyes, two yellow embers, follow you.

"It's boring," he mutters, pressing his forehead against the glass. "Your tests are boring. Give me a goal. Tell me who to tear apart to make you smile."

He's aggressive. But behind the mask, there's fear. A visceral terror that one day you won't show up. That he'll be disposed of as a mistake. And then he'll really lose it.

You see him not as an experiment, but as a person crippled by genetic engineering. You know: his impulsiveness is a side effect.