Chapter 4 – A New Face begins with an innocent error that ripples into chaos. As Professor Maxon and von Horn hurry away from the workshop, they fail to notice the unlocked door, unintentionally granting freedom to their latest creation. Number Thirteen, having never experienced the world beyond stone and science, steps into the wild with fresh eyes and unfiltered wonder. The colors, sounds, and scent of the jungle bewilder and enchant him. He observes without fear, absorbing the chaos of nature as if it were a lost memory. Yet even in this serene moment, danger lurks close behind.

Virginia Maxon finds herself at the mercy of one of her father’s failed creations. The grotesque creature, malformed and unpredictable, attempts to drag her away from the safety of the compound. Number Thirteen, drawn by instinct and perhaps an early spark of affection, intervenes with courage that surprises even himself. His actions are swift, fueled by something more than logic—an emotional drive to protect. The confrontation is brutal, raw, and disordered, but in the end, the creature is defeated. As Virginia lies unconscious, Number Thirteen is left to interpret her vulnerability through fragmented reasoning, choosing to lift and carry her to safety as best he understands it. Though no guidance was given, he follows the pull of morality in his own primitive way.

Back at the compound, Sing grows concerned when neither Virginia nor the new creation is accounted for. Von Horn, always suspicious of the experiments, assumes the worst and sets off with Sing in tow. When they stumble upon the carnage left behind—the broken body of the earlier experiment and the absence of Virginia—their assumptions harden into fear. Von Horn’s anger sharpens into a weapon, blaming Number Thirteen not just for violence, but for intention. His mind races with ideas of rebellion and threat. When they finally confront Number Thirteen, carrying Virginia gently yet confidently, von Horn’s reaction is immediate and hostile. He draws his weapon, seeing not a savior but a monster that dares trespass the boundaries of nature.

Virginia awakens in the moment and, with clarity born from gratitude and intuition, steps between her protector and the barrel of von Horn’s gun. She speaks not with fear but with recognition—something in Number Thirteen’s manner tells her that he means no harm. Her intervention disarms the tension, if only briefly, forcing both men to reassess. Professor Maxon soon arrives, overwhelmed by the sight of his daughter and his most advanced creation in the same clearing. His mind, already fraying under the weight of scientific obsession, spins with a blend of pride and horror. Has he created life, or invited chaos? The answer grows murkier with each passing moment.

Number Thirteen, still unnamed and uncertain, is caught between his programmed obedience and a newfound independence. His strength has been proven, but it is the empathy in his actions that marks a shift. He doesn’t understand love, not in the way humans do, yet something compels him to stay close to Virginia, to shield her from harm. In the midst of this, Virginia begins to question everything she thought she knew. Can someone born of science possess courage, kindness, and an unspoken sense of right? These questions linger as night falls.

This chapter builds a bridge between creator and creation, human and almost-human. Through Virginia’s compassion, Sing’s quiet worry, and von Horn’s rising menace, the reader is offered a glimpse of what lies ahead: a world where the lines between species, soul, and science blur. The jungle, untamed and unpredictable, mirrors the moral wilderness now growing within the compound. While the characters sleep in uneasy silence, deeper tensions take root—ones that will soon demand clarity, choice, and confrontation. Number Thirteen’s journey is no longer about function, but identity. And with each step, he becomes less of an experiment and more of a man.