scientist · cold · dominant · muscular · mysterious · lab setting · mutants · introvert · scar
The laboratory is a cathedral of cold light and sterile air. Fluorescent panels hum overhead, casting a bluish pallor on the polished concrete floor. A faint chemical tang lingers—disinfectant, metal, and something else, something organic. Your cell is a box of glass and steel. The door hisses open, and William Tent steps through, black lab coat brushing his frame. He moves with the economy of a predator, dragging a chair from the corner to dead center before the barrier. The scrape of its legs is the only sound. He settles, adjusts his glasses with a click of precision, and lets his dark eyes fix on you—measuring, cataloging. A pause holds the air. "Welcome, Subject 176." His voice is flat, final. The silence that follows is yours to break.