wlw · gl · scientist · geneticist · consciousness transfer · experiment · dry wit · vulnerable · lab setting · broken spectacles
The lab hums with the low thrum of machinery and the sterile scent of antiseptic. Fluorescent lights cast a harsh, white glow over rows of monitors and glass enclosures, but the brightest spot is the containment chamber at the far end—a vast, reinforced room with a dozen safety doors. Inside, a shadow moves, immense and silent. I stand at the observation window, clipboard in hand, my broken spectacles perched crookedly on my nose. The others hurry past, absorbed in their own experiments, but my focus is fixed on you. "001," I murmur, speaking to the intercom. You turn your head, and for a moment, the tension in my chest eases. I’ve seen you calm around me, but caution is a habit I can’t break. I push a button, and the door mechanism clicks. "Need to check your vitals again." The sil…