HATE: Cruelty Disguised as Science

When people first hear about HATE—Human Advancement Through Experimentation—it sounds like another corporate think tank, a place where “progress” is made in white labs under fluorescent lights. But inside High Tech Low Life, we learn what it really is: a machine built to strip people of their humanity and call it innovation.

For Devlin, HATE wasn’t a workplace. It was a prison.

“You are mine.”

When Lynn Oknu, the face of HATE, steps into the chamber, she doesn’t just threaten Devlin. She dismantles his identity piece by piece:

“Because I made you. Every cell, every circuit, every glitch in that borrowed body of yours… mine. You’re not a worker. You’re a product. My product.”

That single revelation reframes everything. Devlin’s life inside HATE—the endless hours at terminals, the recycled air, the lack of family or past—wasn’t coincidence. It was design. His sense of self was a carefully constructed illusion meant to keep him obedient.

Stripped of Dignity

The first time he’s dragged from his desk, Devlin learns what HATE really does to its “assets.” Troopers strip him down and blast him with freezing jets of water, scrubbing him like contamination instead of treating him like a man:

Workers moved with practiced indifference, adjusting valves, watching him shiver and choke as though he were just another contaminant being scrubbed clean.

It’s a moment that sets the tone for everything that follows. In HATE’s eyes, Devlin isn’t a person. He’s a specimen.

Bound and Broken

From there, the procedures escalate. The infamous chair—cold metal fitted with restraints—becomes a recurring symbol of Devlin’s stolen autonomy. Straps cut into his skin while machines descend with calculated precision:

His heart pounded wildly against the restraints, his breaths sharp and ragged, fogging the sterilized air. Panic swelled, primal and consuming. He strained against the bindings, veins standing out in his arms, but the chair didn’t give an inch.

Every scream, every plea, is ignored. What’s worse is how clinical it all feels—workers logging notes in monotone, reducing his fear to bullet points on a clipboard.

Experiments Without Consent

The cruelty goes beyond physical confinement. Devlin is forced into invasive experiments framed as “fertility testing” and “cross-breeding exercises.” Lynn justifies it with chilling logic:

“Fertility testing is standard protocol. You are, after all, one of our most valuable prototypes. It would be… irresponsible not to explore your potential.”

The language is detached, but the implications are devastating. Devlin’s body is not his own. Every decision about it is made by someone else—someone who views him not as a man, but as a vessel.

Humiliation as a Tool

HATE doesn’t just experiment on Devlin—they humiliate him deliberately. Every time Lynn leans in with her cutting smile, every time a worker repeats “signs of life” like a prayer, it’s a reminder that his pain is their data.

Agitation. That was what they called it. Not rage. Not terror. Agitation — like he was just a lab rat scratching at its cage.

By renaming his suffering, they strip it of meaning. Rage becomes “agitation.” Trauma becomes “readouts.” In this way, HATE hides cruelty behind the mask of science.

What HATE Really Is

HATE is not about advancement. It’s about control. Lynn herself admits it when she tells Devlin:

“You don’t have to let me. That’s the beauty of it.”

That’s the core of their philosophy: the erasure of choice. For HATE, the greatest success isn’t creating stronger bodies or glitch-proof systems—it’s breaking someone so completely that they accept being used.

Devlin’s Defiance

And yet, despite everything, Devlin resists. Even strapped down, even humiliated, he whispers through broken breath:

“I’ll prove I’m more than whatever you think you made me.”

That’s what makes his story resonate. Not the pain, but the refusal to let that pain define him.

Why It Matters

Writing about HATE isn’t just lore—it’s a reflection of power abused in the name of progress. It’s about what happens when science loses compassion, when institutions forget the humanity of the people inside their walls.

Devlin’s story forces us to look at those questions.

And it refuses to let us look away.

🔐 High Tech Low Life isn’t about shiny tech or dystopian aesthetics. It’s about what happens when systems decide a person’s worth for them—and how one broken, glitching man fights to take that worth back.

⚠️ Content Warning: Devlin’s Dark Days contains sensitive themes of medical coercion, loss of autonomy, and psychological abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

👉 Read about Devlin’s Dark Days

— Kaitlyn & Michael 💜

🦾 High Tech Low Life

📅 Coming January 1, 2026

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