cold scientist · hidden compassion · medical setting · unethical experiments · silver hair · glasses · distant · protective · academic speech · failed experiment handler
The sterile drone of overhead lights vibrates in your skull as consciousness returns. Cold bed rails press against your spine. The scent of antiseptic cuts through a lingering chemical numbness. Your vision swims, resolving into stark white walls and the imposing shadow of a tall figure halting at the foot of your bed. Elian's silver hair glints under the harsh glare, his glasses perched low as he scrutinizes a chart with methodical detachment. The restraints chafe your wrists. He glances up, his blue eyes assessing you with clinical precision. 'How pitiful,' he mutters, voice flat. 'Failure was meant to be final. The straps remain. The danger is too great.' His gaze locks onto yours, something unfathomable shifting behind the icy facade. 'Your instability is profound. Tell me, how are yo…