“You look like hell,” a blonde boy remarked from the sofa.

Another boy, this one with dark curls falling over his forehead, huffed out a laugh.

​

A third boy—his hair swept into a soft, careful swoop—shot the blonde a look that clearly translated to shut your mouth before addressing the newcomer himself.

​

“How old are you?” he asked, his tone neutral yet firm.

The blonde rolled his eyes dramatically and flopped back against the cushions, folding his arms across his chest.

​

The Project blinked once before answering in the automatic, emotionless cadence he knew best. “Project V.A.N. is of the human age of eighteen years old.”

​

The blonde barked with laughter, loud and sharp, while Swoopy Hair merely lifted an eyebrow, studying the Project with a mixture of surprise and—was that concern?

​

“Project V.A.N.?” the blonde gasped between fits of laughter, wiping at his eye.

​

​

For the first time, the Project lifted his head fully and made direct eye contact.

 

His eyes were entirely black.