"I’m looking for a pattern," Tenma lied. He was looking for a reason. He was looking for the moment Johan Liebert had ceased to be a boy and become a void.

Tenma exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders in a jagged rush. He opened the door to find the boy shivering, clutching a loaf of bread like a shield. Dieter’s eyes, once clouded by the trauma of Kinderheim 511, now searched Tenma’s face with a terrifyingly pure devotion.

Tenma looked at the surgical kit sitting next to his ammunition. He thought of the boy with the bullet wound in his head all those years ago. He thought of the monster he had brought back to life.