Dr. Elara Voss awoke to the hum of machinery, her breath shallow in the sterile air. The chamber around her was a vault of white steel, its surfaces gleaming under a cold, artificial light. Symbols pulsed along the walls—fluid, shifting…
The first thing she noticed was the smell—metallic, sterile, and cloying, like rusted wires and antiseptic. It clung to her nostrils, sharp and unyielding, as if the air itself had been scrubbed raw. She blinked, her vision swimming, and found…
The first memory came as a flicker of light in the corner of her vision, a streetlamp burning too bright in a city she’d never seen. Dr. Elara Voss blinked, but the image remained—a man in a dark coat, his…
Dr. Elara Voss had never needed company. Her lab, a fortress of steel and glass on the edge of a desolate coastline, was her universe. The hum of machines, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the cold precision of her work—these…
Dr. Elara Voss injected the serum with a trembling hand, the glass vial hissing as it released a faint, metallic scent. The lab’s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over her cluttered workspace—stacks of notebooks, half-finished equations scrawled…
Dr. Elara Voss had always believed memory was a ledger of moments, precise and immutable. Her work at the Neurocognitive Advancement Institute focused on refining neural implants to enhance recall, a project she called the Lattice. It was meant to…
Dr. Lila Voss adjusted the monitor, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as the neural scanner pulsed with a faint blue glow. Subject 9 lay still on the examination table, their chest rising in slow, measured increments. The brain scans…
The first memory came as a whisper, a flicker of a life not her own. Mara sat in the sterile lab, her fingers tracing the edge of the steel table, the cold seeping into her bones. The neuroscientist, Dr. Voss,…
Mara traced the grooves in the metal chair with her fingertips, the cold seeping through her gloves. The fluorescent light above hummed, casting a sickly glow over the sterile room. She had no memory of how she’d gotten here, only…
The first memory came as a whisper, not a flood. Jordan lay on the cold steel table, electrodes humming against their temples, and suddenly they were standing on a sunbaked beach, salt stinging their lips. The air smelled of seaweed…
Dr. Elara Voss had not spoken to anyone in three years when the subject first regenerated its leg. The lab’s hum was a constant, a low vibration in her bones, but that day the machine’s whirring stopped. She watched the…
Dr. Elara Voss injected the serum, her fingers trembling as the cold liquid seeped into her vein. The lab’s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the stainless steel tables. She had always preferred solitude, but the isolation…
The air in Veyra’s Hollow smelled of damp earth and iron, a scent that clung to the skin like a second layer. Lira pressed her palms against the cold stone of the archive wall, her breath fogging in the dim…
Dr. Lila Voss adjusted the sterile gloves on her hands, the latex creaking as she leaned over the observation table. The man lying beneath the thin sheet—Elias Mercer—had no idea how close he was to unraveling everything she believed about…
Dr. Elara Voss had never trusted the past. Her lab, a sterile chamber of steel and glass, was her only refuge, its hum a constant companion. She worked late, her fingers tracing the edges of a neural map on her…