Chapter Six

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Thirty-Seven cracked his eyes open slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar scenery around him. Everything around him was new territory, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it was definitely not the same everyday program that Thirty-Seven had grown accustomed to. This wasn't the same place that was littered in white-cloaked scientists doing the same thing each day.

The room wasn't the bland, dull shade that Thirty-Seven was used to seeing. This particular shade seemed . . . brighter, more vibrant than the lab could have ever been. Thirty-Seven felt as if he's seen this shade previously, perhaps one of the scientists had worn that shade on something small, an accessory perhaps. Thirty-Seven wasn't sure, but it amazed him. Seeing such a color made him feel weird, something other than the typical emptiness that had seeped its way into his body.

Something thin was draped over his body, making Thirty-Seven's gaze lowered to his waist, seeing something creating warmth lying on him. It was also in a brighter shade, which made it less threatening, less scary. Flashes of memory reminded Thirty-Seven of the previous day, reminding him of what exactly had happened to get him into this different location.

That guy had broken into the lab, escaping with Thirty-Seven in his arms. That guy had freed him, and now he was here, in an unfamiliar location with unfamiliar pigments and aromas. He didn't hate it; he just wasn't used to it. Given time, Thirty-Seven knew he would come to understand everything about this location if he had the time to do so. Thirty-Seven wasn't sure if he would be given such a privilege.

The urge to roam the new environment was strong, but as much as Thirty-Seven wanted to prowl, there was a stereotypical fear alongside the roaming urge. This place was unfamiliar and would remain unknown until he wandered. He was particularly afraid of getting caught roaming the new environment. He remembered seeing the guy who led them here but was uninformed of if he was a friend or foe. There was no way to dictate that without interacting with the guy.

Thirty-Seven shivered slightly, pulling the thin, warm material closer to his skin, seeking its warmth. The room was frigorific compared to the lab. The new temperature was not the proportional, nonchanging one that he was used to. This one seemed to change every second, not a single temperature lasting for more than a couple of minutes. Thirty-Seven didn't like that part, in the entirety of the new adventure, the temperatures changed so rapidly. That was the one thing that Thirty-Seven missed, the never-changing temperature.

After wrapping the fluffy material around him, Thirty-Seven glanced around the room once more, his eyes finally locking on and locating someone sitting on the floor near a doorway. It was the one who saved him from the lab.

The person confused Thirty-Seven. He did not resemble the scientists in the slightest. Were they different species? The person had physical traits that Thirty-Seven could slightly recognize in himself. Thirty-Seven very rarely saw his own physical appearance, as not many places in the lab had reflective surfaces, and even rarer was Thirty-Seven given moments to glimpse at himself. They both had uniquely different tints in the skin, as Thirty-Seven knew his did not match the scientists either. Was there something wrong with the two of them? No, there couldn't be, because many of the other subjects had weirdly tinted skin. Thirty-Seven occasionally saw the others who also inhabited the lab, and this guy wasn't one of the few he had seldomly seen. So he wasn't an escapee. Those he saw were never the same; each time he encountered a fellow subject; they were always someone new.

Aside from resembling himself, his savior reminded Thirty-Seven of a subject he saw many years ago. They had apparent differences, this guy and the one from his memory, but they also had many similarities. Thirty-Seven wouldn't be surprised if there was a connection between the two.

There was a reason that his savior had broken into the laboratory, and Thirty-Seven knew it was not because of him. No, he had been searching for something, and that something was not Thirty-Seven.

Thirty-Seven couldn't take his eyes off of his savior's uniquely tinted skin, especially around his facial areas. It was so different compared to the other faces he's seen that Thirty-Seven wouldn't mind staring at this guy for an overly extended period of time.

The faint sound of movement outside the door immediately made Thirty-Seven's eyes drop from his savior to the knob of the door. Thirty-Seven subconsciously brought the thin cover up to his lips, his eyes wide with fear. Was the person on the other side of the door the guy who led them here or someone entirely different? Thirty-Seven could only listen for the footsteps that seemingly approached the door, but the sounds disappeared as the person seemed to walk into another room. Thirty-Seven was stilled locked in place, momentarily hoping that the guy sleeping on the floor, that his savior would wake up. Thirty-Seven, in a state of panic, slid off the warm platform that he slept on, creeping slowly to the door, the thin warmth still wrapped around his shoulders.

While the person in the hallway had heavier footsteps, Thirty-Seven's were so light that they weren't audible. The only noise that was made as Thirty-Seven quickly and hesitantly made his way to the door was the sound of the thin material scraping on the ground lightly.

Thirty-Seven stared at the door for a second, his eyes on the handle, hesitating. He had no idea who was on the other side of the door, was he willing to venture into the unknown without the slightest intel on who could be on the other side?

Turning the handle slowly, Thirty-Seven peeked his head outside the room he had slumbered in, his eyes bouncing off of everything, too much to take in at one time, overwhelming Thirty-Seven. He stepped out of the safety of the room, closing the door behind him, not wanting to disturb his savior's rest.

Thirty-Seven slowly walked down the narrow corridor, his eyes glancing at everything. Everything was new, the smells, the temperature, which changed into a colder one the moment he ventured out of the bedroom. Much to Thirty-Seven's amusement, the walls seemed to be tinted another pretty shade as well.

How Thirty-Seven yearned to know what those shades were called.

Thirty-Seven nearly jumped out of his body when a door directly beside him was opened, and someone stepped out. Thirty-Seven could only stare back at the guy, the one who had led them there the previous night, stop looking back at him in shock and bafflement, seemingly as startled as Thirty-Seven was.

At least now Thirty-Seven knew it had, in fact, been the guy who most likely owned this location.

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