John felt as if he were adrift in an endless void. Whichever way he turned, there was nothing but empty darkness. It seemed as though he had been suspended here for years, but in reality, it had only been a matter of days. In the real world, time remained elusive, and the emptiness he experienced was both eerie and profound.
Within the void, he couldn't hear, see, or feel anything at first. Then, gradually, sounds began to permeate the silence—beeping, clicking, and, infrequently, the distant voice of an automated assistant. John couldn't be sure, but he realized that whatever the strange sphere had done to him had landed him in a hospital.
As time drifted by, John's mind started to wander, delving into memories of a better time, particularly those involving his mother. In the void, though no one could see it, a small, joyous smile graced John's face as he reminisced. His mother, unlike his father, had chosen a different path. She was a scientist just like his father, but after discovering she was pregnant, she left her experiments, tools, and the lab behind, choosing motherhood over her scientific pursuits.
Though the memory was somewhat hazy, John could remember his mother's beauty—her black hair as soft as silk, her angular features, deep emerald eyes, and her soft, delicate pale skin. Her smile had a radiant quality that could light up any room.
However, his reverie was abruptly interrupted by a monotone voice that echoed through the void. This voice was different from the automated assistant, and it sent shivers down his spine.
"Synchronizing complete. Host found. Hostname: John Myers. Age: eighteen. Physical fitness: unremarkable. Mental ability: incredible. Air detected. The right arm and a large portion of organs are seriously damaged or missing. Reconstruction of the host's body beginning in T minus five, four, three, two, one..."
John couldn't fathom the implications of these words as a sense of anticipation washed over him, and the voice's countdown began. John had braced himself for pain, almost welcoming it, for it would have been a welcome change from the numbing emptiness he had endured. But there was still nothing. No pain, no warmth, just the same void he had been trapped in since his entry.
Then, a subtle change began. A rhythmic clicking emerged, growing gradually louder and louder. Suddenly, he found himself rolling up off a medical bed, his breathing heavy. Everything felt different, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could feel life coursing through him. His heartbeat and the air felt crisp, and he perceived sensations more vividly than ever before.
Gradually, his mind adapted, returning to a state resembling his past experiences. He mustered the strength to crawl out of the bed, though walking felt peculiar, his first steps resembling that of a newborn deer, fearing that his legs might give way at any moment.
After some effort, he reached the door. Instinctively, he extended his right hand toward the door handle, only to find that the hand he reached out with was not the one he remembered. It was not made of flesh; it was a lustrous, glossy black metal. It moved like his arm and felt like his arm, but there was an undeniable coldness in the metal of the door handle as it met his fingers. John flinched back after failing to touch the cold metal. The weight of his loss hung heavily upon him, and he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He lifted his now robotic right arm, fear evident in his eyes, and began to inspect it. The glossy black metal seemed to absorb all light, creating an almost otherworldly sheen. His eyes followed along the arm, spotting a multitude of small blinking lights in certain positions.
Slowly, John rose from the floor and cautiously made his way toward the window of the room. His reflection stared back at him, a reflection that was undeniably him, yet not the same. John reached up towards his head, discovering that his hair was no longer its usual black, but now a striking white with streaks of black. His right eye had transformed into a glowing white light.
Suddenly, John heard a loud banging on the door, and his body instinctively flipped around, raising his right arm in a defensive posture. The door slammed open, and two men wielding laser rifles stood before him. A third man, with brown hair, brown eyes, and an imposing stature, entered the room. He ordered the two men to lower their laser rifles.
The final man introduced himself, "Hello, I am General Gallagher. I will now be your commanding officer."
John, still bewildered and filled with questions, hesitated before asking, "General Gallagher, what is happening?"
The general reassured him, "All your questions will be answered once you reach the station."
Suddenly, two small darts flew toward John