The air in the sublevel lab tasted metallic, like old pennies and static. Dr. Elara Voss adjusted the gloves on her hands, the latex creaking as she stepped closer to the containment unit. Inside, the man—Kael—lay still, his skin a pale, waxy gray that seemed to drink the fluorescent light. His chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate rhythms, each breath a quiet rebellion against the sterile silence.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Kael said, his voice low, gravelly. His eyes—dark, unblinking—locked onto hers.
Elara didn’t flinch. She’d heard the rumors: that Kael wasn’t human, that he was a construct, a vessel for something else. But the way he spoke, the way he watched her, made her think he was more than that. More than a test subject.
“I’m here to see if you’re still you,” she said.
Kael’s lips curled into something that might have been a smile. “You think I’m still me?”
The hum of the machines around them filled the gap. Elara glanced at the monitors—heart rate steady, brain activity spiking in irregular bursts. The data was inconsistent, erratic, like the man inside the glass was trying to communicate in a language no one else could understand.
“You’re not like the others,” Kael said after a long pause. “They never asked that question.”
Elara frowned. “Who are you talking about?”
Kael’s gaze flickered to the wall, as if the answer lay hidden in the concrete. “The ones before me. The ones who didn’t make it out.”
A chill crawled up her spine, but she forced herself to stay still. “What happened to them?”
“They stopped asking questions,” Kael said. “And then they… disappeared.”
Elara’s pulse quickened. She’d been told the previous subjects had failed, that their bodies had rejected the experiment. But Kael’s words felt too deliberate, too aware. “You’re not just a subject,” she whispered. “You’re something else.”
Kael tilted his head, studying her. “Maybe I’m the first one who figured it out.”
The lights flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows across the lab. Elara’s fingers twitched at her sides. She wanted to believe him, to see the truth in his eyes—but the weight of the experiment, the secrecy surrounding it, made her hesitate.
“Why did you come here?” Kael asked.
Elara hesitated. The question felt like a trap. “I needed to understand,” she said finally. “To know what this is.”
Kael’s expression didn’t change, but something in his posture shifted. “Then you’re already part of it,” he said. “You just don’t know how deep it goes.”
The door behind them hissed open. Elara turned, heart pounding, as a figure stepped into the room. Dr. Marcus Hale, the lead researcher, his face unreadable.
“Dr. Voss,” he said, his voice clipped. “We need to talk.”
Elara glanced back at Kael, who was already watching her again, his expression calm, as if he’d expected this.
The experiment had only just begun.
