In a hazy state of mind, my eyes flicker open.
What's my name?
I can't remember. I try to recall my name, but the only thing that comes to mind is the word 'Sigma (Ï‚).'
The operating room's bed feels cold and sterile. I sense a cold chill in the air, and in front of me, three medical personnel are present – one doctor, wearing a surgical gown, seems to be injecting something into my arm, while two nurses stand in a line.
Limited information about the doctor with mechanical arms and high-prescription glasses appears in my view.
[Subject Information]
Gender: Male
Affiliation: Information Security Bureau, Medical Team Leader
Name: Andrew Wilson
Age: Estimated to be in the late 40s
Biological Response: Normal
Risk Level: Low
Apart from what was displayed before my eyes, I couldn't find any additional information about him. I looked around to get a sense of my surroundings.
While I was doing this, the doctor lifted his glasses and began to speak.
"You're awake. Did the anesthesia wear off faster than expected, or was the dosage low? Or is it just that you recover quickly?"
His matter-of-fact response left me bewildered. The doctor seemed to anticipate my confusion and continued speaking.
"Where am I?"
The doctor replied bluntly, "This is the Information Security Bureau's recovery room."
I'd never heard of the Information Security Bureau before. I had so many questions, but first, I needed to know who I was and my current situation.
"Who am I, and what have you done to me?"
The doctor looked at me with an expressionless face and started speaking.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know you. I performed the modification surgery according to orders from higher-ups. You're extraordinary to survive this level of surgery, considering that a typical person would have died during it."
It was an absurd answer. The doctor performed surgery on a patient he didn't even know.
"What have you done to me?"
"Don't get agitated. First, you need to stabilize. Although you're almost recovered, considering you can speak, it's similar to being completely recovered. I'll transfer you to the recovery room. Rest well."
Without making eye contact, the doctor left the operating room.
This was confusing. What was the Information Security Bureau, and what had that doctor done to me?
One of the nurses, holding what appeared to be a syringe, said to me, "Sigma, as Dr. Andrew mentioned, recovery is the priority. Let's move you to the recovery room."
The nurse pressed a button under my bed, and it began to move along the painted line on the floor. The door to the operating room opened, revealing a corridor.
My surroundings began to change, and the mechanical hum and fixations continued. A nurse who followed me put small medication bags on the desk.
"Sigma, here are your anxiolytics, Alprazolam, and your beta-blocker, Atenolol. You can take them in the morning and evening."
[Subject Information]
Gender: Female
Affiliation: Information Security Bureau, Medical Team Member
Name: Catherine Smith
Age: Estimated to be in the late 20s
Biological Response: Normal
Risk Level: Low
Inadvertently, I saw the nurse's identity and name. I inclined my head in gratitude to express my thanks to the nurse.
The nurse left the recovery room, leaving me feeling exhausted. I couldn't help but think too much. Was it the result of thinking too much, or was it the overwhelming amount of new information I had acquired?
A pair of medication bags on the desk caught my eye. The bright orange anxiolytics and white beta-blocker. I had no idea what these drugs were for, but I held on to the faint hope that taking them might make a difference.
With a sense of anticipation, I filled a paper cup from the small water cooler on the desk and swallowed the pills.
The bitterness of the medicine began to coat my mouth. Was it the medicine's effect, or did I just hope it would calm my racing thoughts? The endless stream of thoughts that had held me captive began to quiet down, and drowsiness crept over me.
Why am I like this? Perhaps, this is what they wanted me to be.
I continued to ponder until the drowsiness overtook me. The last thought that crossed my mind was, 'Who am I?'"