It was supposed to be a movie.
Just a movie.
I used to sit back on my old, beat-up couch and binge the Planet of the Apes trilogy like it was scripture. Caesar was a legend. Smart. Noble. Savage when he had to be. The way he led his people through chaos, betrayal, war… it stuck with me.
I cried when he died.
I rewatched it right after.
Over and over. Every line. Every scene. Every damn nuance of his rise burned into my brain.
And now I was living it.
Not as a fan.
As Caesar.
⸻
My eyes opened for the first time, and light poured in too sharp, too white, too real. The stench of ammonia hit my nostrils like a punch. Sterile air. Bleach. Metal.
The lab.
Brightwood.
It wasn't a dream. It wasn't a simulation.
I was an infant — an ape. Limbs small, fingers stubby, but awareness… already burning.
I didn't panic.
I knew this scene.
Bright Eyes. My mother.
She cradled me in her arms, whispering soft, guttural sounds. Her eyes were wild — not like a normal ape. She was enhanced. Intelligent. She knew they were watching. That they wanted to take me.
And I knew what was coming.
I had seen it before — in 4K Blu-ray clarity.
⸻
The glass door hissed open. Two lab techs entered.
"Subject ALZ-113's mother is agitated again," one said, clipboard in hand. "Sedate her if she resists."
I whimpered instinctively — not out of fear, but calculation.
Bright Eyes snarled and backed away, holding me tighter.
"Easy, girl," the other man cooed, raising a hand.
I blinked slowly. I could barely move, but my brain was working overdrive. If I reacted too intelligently now, I'd be dissected. Labeled a freak. Locked away.
So I played dumb.
Cute. Helpless.
They grabbed her.
She screamed.
I felt her arms tighten, then go limp as the needle hit her neck. My body was pried from hers like a limb torn off.
And just like that, I was alone.
⸻
They placed me in a small containment crib — cold metal under synthetic fleece. The hum of machines all around. Wires. Cameras.
"You think he's inherited the intelligence?"
"No idea. But with 112 out of the picture, 113 might be our last shot."
I stared at them through heavy eyelids. Their words meant nothing — yet everything.
They didn't know who I was.
Not really.
They saw a baby ape.
But I was Malik Graves, 29 years old — former human, former gym rat, YouTube commentator, sci-fi nerd. I died in a car crash on I-10 near Baton Rouge.
And woke up in a cage.
Reborn.
With every memory of a world that now saw me as a lab rat.
But that was fine.
Let them underestimate me.
Let them give me a front-row seat.
⸻
Over the next few days, they ran tests. Motor control. Cognitive response. Pattern recognition.
I aced them.
But only when they let me.
I made sure to miss a few on purpose. Just enough to be "promising," not terrifying. I kept movements clumsy. Blinked slowly. Smiled when they fed me formula.
Inside, I was already planning.
This wasn't some isekai fantasy.
I didn't have a system.
No HUD. No cheat codes.
What I had was worse — or better:
Spoilers.
I knew what was coming. The rise. The fall. The betrayal. The blood.
And the ending.
Caesar dying in the snow, bleeding out alone after everything he'd built came crumbling down.
Not this time.
Not my ending.
⸻
They moved me out of the lab after a few weeks.
Said I was "too young" to test on properly. They needed time. Needed someone to raise me in a controlled environment.
Enter: Will Rodman.
The man. The myth. The father figure.
It was surreal, seeing him in real life. I knew his voice. His face. James Franco, in another life. Now, flesh and bone, speaking to me like I wasn't some anomaly.
Just a baby.
His baby.
"You're special, little guy," he whispered, buckling me into a car seat. "We'll figure this out. Together."
I made a soft noise and reached for his hand.
Not fake. Not manipulative.
Will was… good.
One of the few humans I'd ever trust.
But even so, I wouldn't rely on him.
I couldn't.
⸻
His house smelled like wood and coffee and detergent.
I spent my early years there, just like in the movies.
But everything was different now.
Because every time I held a block or stacked rings or solved a puzzle…
I already knew the answers.
I had to fake frustration. Fake confusion. Fake toddler energy.
But once they left the room?
I trained.
I did push-ups with my tiny arms. Pulled myself up onto cabinets. Balanced on railings. Pushed my muscles to develop faster.
I studied Will's books. Watched his computer when he left it on. Listened to every word he said on phone calls.
And when Will finally brought home the ALZ-113 compound…
I smiled inside.
Because that was the start.
The real start.
⸻
One night, I stared at myself in the mirror.
Fur was coming in thicker. My jaw was squarer. My eyes… older than they should've been.
"Caesar," Will said behind me.
I turned.
He knelt, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"That's your name."
I already knew.
But I nodded slowly. The first time.
The first real moment of acceptance.
I wasn't Malik anymore.
Not to the world.
Not to Will.
Not even to myself.
I was Caesar.
And I was going to change the future.