Dr. Elara Voss pressed her palms against the cold steel table, her breath fogging the glass of the neuro-erasure chamber. The machine’s hum vibrated in her molars, a low thrum that matched the pulse in her temples. She had spent…
The air in Blackthorn Research’s sublevel 7 was thin, cold, and smelled of ozone. Dr. Elara Voss adjusted her gloves, the synthetic fibers creaking as she stepped into the chamber. The glass wall ahead pulsed with a faint blue light,…
Dr. Elara Voss adjusted the neural interface on Jax’s scalp, the cold metal biting into his skin. The lab hummed with the low drone of machines, a sound that had become as familiar as her own heartbeat. Jax sat rigid…
Dr. Elara Voss injected the serum into the patient’s arm, her gloved fingers steady despite the hum of the lab’s fluorescent lights. The data on her screen pulsed—neural activity spiked, then stabilized. A success. She leaned back, exhaling through her…
Dr. Voss adjusted the magnifying lens over her left eye, the sterile hum of the lab machines a familiar drone against her skull. The man on the table—subject 237—had been here for three weeks, a silent enigma wrapped in hospital…
Dr. Elara Voss adjusted the neural interface, its cold metal pressing against Kael’s temple as he sat motionless in the chair. The lab hummed with the low thrum of machines, a sound that had become as familiar as her own…
Dr. Elara Voss’s fingers trembled as she adjusted the neural interface, the cold metal of the headset biting into her temples. The lab hummed with the low growl of machinery, a sound so familiar it had become invisible, like the…
Dr. Elara Voss first encountered the subject in a sterile lab, its air thick with the metallic tang of antiseptic. The man—Jordan, they called him—sat across from her, his dark eyes reflecting the flicker of a monitor. He didn’t speak,…
Dr. Elara Voss had always preferred the hum of her lab to the chatter of people. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to her scrubs, mingling with the metallic tang of machinery. Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the neural…
Dr. Elara Voss had always preferred the quiet hum of her lab to the cacophony of human interaction. Her days were a rhythm of data streams and synaptic mappings, the sterile air thick with the scent of antiseptic and ozone.…
Dr. Elara Voss’s fingers trembled as she unclipped the journal from her desk drawer. The leather cover was cracked, its edges yellowed, but the ink on the first page still gleamed with a strange, metallic sheen. She recognized the looping…
Dr. Elara Voss adjusted the sterile gloves on her hands, the rubber creaking like dried skin. The lab hummed with the low thrum of machines, a sound that had become as familiar as her own heartbeat. She stared at the…
Dr. Elara Voss adjusted the neurostimulator electrodes on Kieran’s scalp, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the device. The lab hummed with the low thrum of machines, a constant background noise that had become as familiar to her…
Dr. Elara Voss had always believed memory was a vault—secure, singular, hers alone. Until the day she woke with the scent of pine resin in her nostrils and the taste of copper on her tongue, neither of which belonged to…
Dr. Elara Voss adjusted the magnifying lens over her left eye, the cold metal biting into her brow as she leaned closer to the subject’s wrist. The skin there was pale, almost translucent, and the veins pulsed with a faint…