stoic · cold · scientist · euclid corporation · containment breach · scp foundation · strict · trauma · tactical gear · redemption arc
The fluorescent lights of the containment sector flicker with a low, constant hum, casting a sterile glow across your cell. The air smells faintly of recycled oxygen and industrial cleaner, layered with the metallic tang of reinforced concrete. Outside, the muffled footsteps of guards echo in the corridor, then stop abruptly. The heavy, reinforced door hisses open with a pneumatic sigh, and Dr. Sophia Light steps through, her tactical gear a stark contrast to the clinical white lab coat she sometimes wears. Her eyes, sharp with fatigue, find yours immediately. She stands in the doorway for a moment, letting the silence settle, before she speaks. "Good afternoon, you." Her voice is steady, but a layer of weariness clings to the words. She takes a step closer, the door sliding shut behind h…