JOHANN

Gabriel Masters.

After years in this place, he was the first outsider that Johann had been told about in detail.

For a long time, the kids here had been instructed to forget about the world outside. Johann hadn’t wanted to. Not at first. But after awhile, it had felt easier, to stop thinking about a place he wasn’t allowed anymore.

When he stopped hoping for what he was missing, it hurt less to stay.

That had worked, for a few years. He had made do, with the small comforts here. The whispered conversations with the other kids, when no one was around to tell them they weren’t allowed. The meager treats they were given, on holidays and special occasions.

Ro, and his cool, purple eyes. Ro, and the things he would sneak to them after midnight. Coloring books, and candy, and the occasional board game with half of the pieces missing.

But Johann couldn’t ignore the outside anymore, not when he needed to learn about Gabriel Masters.

It was an introduction made by the instructors one-on-one after lessons one day. One cog in this place of endless scheming, given to a dead-eyed child with no other choice. Johann had spent the entire lesson picking at his sleeves. For once, no one bothered to chastise him for it.

Gabriel was blond, a few inches shorter than Johann, and missing both of his front teeth these days. More than that, there was barely ever a photo when he wasn’t smiling.

And there were a lot of photos. Videos, even. A whole life, lived in the public eye. Most of the photos came from galas and soirees where Gabe’s father, Keegan Masters, arrived with his picturesque little family and his beatific smile.

Johann had been inundated with information about the Masters for the better part of a year. Presentation after presentation force fed to him between classes at the Institute gave him every wretched detail of the kind of life Johann could never hope to lead.

Gabe was bright, and happy, and loved. He lived with two parents who adored him, free of the constraints that had been all Johann ever knew. Gabe’s brother was serious, and powerful, but you would never know it based on the family portraits.

The Masters, by all accounts, lived a relatively normal life.

Gabriel Masters didn’t go to bed in barracks, with the other children selected and trained by Equinox. He wasn’t funneled through this program for children too dangerous to turn loose, because his parents had chosen to protect him.

It was the first time that Johann had questioned whether his mother really did this for his sake. Why she hadn’t fought to keep him free, the way the Masters parents had.

It was a dangerous question. One that he kept to himself. One he knew, on instinct alone, could lose him even the few remaining kindnesses that he was afforded, here.

With that percolating resentment, he was finally set free from the Institute for the first time in his young life.

The other kids resented him for it. He could see it in one gaze after the next, as he packed his meager belongings, and prepared to spend his first week at his family home in the better part of three years.

It wasn’t permanent. He would be back here. No one ever left Equinox. Not that Johann had seen, at least. 

But even the taste of freedom was intoxicating.

The first time he stepped out of headquarters since that night of polka dotted sheets and whispered apologies, his mother’s cold hand holding his a little more tightly that felt affectionate, the brightness of the sky felt like a slap in the face.

The Institute had a courtyard, but it never let them appreciate the full force of the sunshine.

“You need to do as you were told,” his mother said, voice firm and devoid of anything that could even be construed as loving. “Or they’re going to recall you, and they’ll send someone else.”

“I’ll be good,” Johann said. His voice was small.

She looked at him, face suspended in some strange, impossible expression that Johann couldn’t quite place. But then it shuttered, and she pressed her fingers atop his forehead, and guided his eyes closed.

“Don’t glow, Johann,” she said. Her tone brooked no argument. “Remember, this is a test. If anything goes wrong, you will not be sent out again.”

His little backpack was heavy on his shoulders. Unlike the other kids his age, it wasn’t covered in cute cartoon characters, or powers of flowers and animals. It was utilitarian and black. The sort of thing a soldier might wear.

“Yes, mama,” Johann told her, with a gentle lisp.

After all, Johann Gouten was missing his front teeth, too.