“Mr. President. I am here to inform you that you have been found guilty.”

“Excuse me?”

“Of crimes against man and nature.” Jihoon made sure his gun was pointed at the president as Seungcheol’s screams ceased and died away at the sight of his master. “You have been found guilty of manslaughter, experimentation on humans, forced labour, approving mass genocide, allowing for the conducting of disfiguration and torture of hybrids, and stealing.”

The President raised an eyebrow.

“You stole my hybrid. I’m here to take him back.”

“Master!”

“Hush, Cheollie.”

A quick silence quilted the room for a moment as the President took two steps across the room, then stopped in the middle. “…tell me why you are so angry.”

“Nobody touches my boyfriend.” Jihoon snarled a little, locking joints to keep himself upright under the duress of his body breaking out. “He belongs with me. He’s my everything. You took him away from me. I just want him back.”

“…that’s not all you want.”

Jihoon shook his head a little, shifting his weight. God, he was getting dizzy. “…why? I just… don’t understand. Everything done… done under your order. Why? What could possibly be gained from… growing hybrids quickly? Turning them young? Giving them… psychic powers? When you obviously hate them!”

“They’re not human.”

“So that gives you the right to create them for the sole purpose of torture and destruction?”

The President took a deep breath, sighing most of it if away. “You’re young. Just a young man. You don’t know. You could never understand. Your mother… she understood. She understood more than most. She didn’t agree but… whenever I came to visit, she became complacent.”

“Don’t you dare bring my mother into this,” Jihoon spat.

The President looked up. “…you don’t understand what it’s like to have children. To watch them suffer. To watch them slip through your fingers every waning moment of every agonizing hour. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your children die.”

Jihoon knew there was sense to be made of this, but his brain wouldn’t comply. He could feel flaps of skin pulling on the sides of his neck, feel his joints freezing up.

“…his name is Chan. He has Aids.” The President looked up at the young journalist wielding a machine gun. “…his mother was HIV-positive. He’s known his whole life he would die. We have to keep him in a sterile room to ensure that doesn’t happen. As you know… there’s no cure for Aids.”

“No.” Jihoon was barely functioning. “There isn’t.”

“But hybrids? Hybrids are a genetic miracle. Proof that what makes us human can be bent, can be changed. Imagine what we could learn from them. Eternal youth, increased vitality. Not just that… their DNA programming? Their nanite technology? If we could re-program them… we could cure anything. Imagine a world free of Aids, HIV, cancer, diabetes. I could save my little boy.”

Jihoon stared.

“And if I have to steal a few hybrids-”

“You are talking about the mutilation,” Jihoon growled, “and near genocide of an entire species. Hundreds and thousands of humans, tortured to-”

“If that is what I have to do to save my son,” the President growled back, “then that’s what I will do! And I’d do it a thousand times over!”

“…has your son… ever seen a hybrid?”

The president took another agitated step away from Jihoon towards the middle of the room before stopping. “…no.”

“Does he know they exist?”

“He knows.”

“…is he the kind of boy who would want them to die in the hopes he might be cured?”

“That doesn’t matter now,” the President snapped, pacing, irritated. “None of that matters. He has to get well again.”

“Mr. President, how long has that boy been in that room?”

“…I don’t know. I don’t… remember. Most of his life.”

Jihoon couldn’t help himself. “…don’t you ever go see him?”

“No. I work to get him better.”

“When was the last time you talked to your son?”

“When he was… I don’t remember.”

It was as if his bones were being broken one by one, like his skull was fracturing in a thousand pieces. That was why he didn’t see. Why he didn’t notice on time. Jihoon would later never forgive himself for that mistake.

The President lunged, taking a scalpel and holding it to Seungcheol’s neck. The hybrid whimpered out in surprise, and Jihoon re-adjusted h