Pov: Third Person
In a sterile white and somewhat grey room, a lady dressed in an all-black jumpsuit stood up from a chair setup as she removed the white VR helmet from her head. Beside her, a sickly-looking man in a white coat who resembled a doctor stood silently.
"So, what happened?" A deep, depressing voice echoed in the empty room filled with various machines of different sizes.
The lady turned her gaze to the man for a few seconds before moving towards a nearby table.
"He beat me," she replied coldly, her voice devoid of emotion as she placed the helmet on the table.
"Hm. So he could even defeat a rank E version of you. Interesting, isn't he?" the man mused. "Too bad he became a failure. How about I cut him up and find out how his body connects with the foreign cells? I'll be able to perfect the next one."
The man seemed eager, his words dripping with a morbid curiosity. The lady paid him no mind, turning to leave.
"I have no say over that. Ask the head when he calls."
With that, she walked toward the exit.
"Tsk. No fun," the man muttered under his breath before turning to one of the machines and beginning to manipulate controls only he understood.
Ding!
The moment the lady exited the door, a soft ping rang out. She glanced down at her wristband and then abandoned her previous destination, making her way to a room further along the hallway. The man in the white coat followed closely behind her.
They entered a room where four other people were already gathered—two of each gender. All six of them stood in a circle, and with another ping, a man dressed entirely in black appeared in the centre of the room. His entire body was cloaked in shadow, and no part of him was visible.
"Head," the group said in unison, bowing their heads in a mild gesture of respect.
The man in the centre didn't respond. He merely surveyed the room.
"How are the subjects?"
"The subjects are in perfect condition. All failed subjects have been disassembled for further perfections," came the reply from one of the men in the room. He wore a white coat as well and appeared to be middle-aged.
"Good. Sylvia, how is the mechanical subject?" The man in the centre directed his question to the lady.
"He is in a half-perfect condition," Sylvia answered.
"Explain."
"He—"
"I'll take it from here," the sickly-looking man interrupted her, his odd smile curling as he continued, much to Sylvia's visible annoyance. "After his escape attempts and our full mind wipe on him, he sorta kinda lost his essence."
"Elaborate," the man in black ordered.
"The subject tried to escape three times, the last one almost succeeding. This happened after we did a partial mind wipe on him," the sickly man explained.
"Tell me something I don't know." The man in black's tone was sharp, tinged with irritation.
"Well, after the full memory erasure, instead of not knowing anything at all, he lost his consciousness. He became like a blank slate—no awareness of any kind. He only responded to commands when given. Along with that, he lost his ability to evolve."
The sickly man paused, looking around the room. "I have little understanding of how his body connects with the foreign cells, but I do know that he can't evolve anymore. That's a problem. He only regained his awareness today. I suggest we disassemble him and use him for the perfection of the next one."
"The perfect one failed," the man in black mused. "Hm. Don't you have enough data on him? What's the need for his disassembling?"
"We have very little data on him," the sickly man continued. "The nano-mechanical chips implanted in his brain only provided about 10% of the total data, as they were all destroyed half a minute after entering his body. It's as though his body has some kind of self-defense protocol. His brain shut itself down after the memory erasure. That much is plausible."
The sickly man took a breath, then continued. "While the foreign blood can't be disassembled, his own can, but we have so little of it. The rigidity of his cells makes extraction problematic. Taking too much blood may cause further issues, but disassembling him could provide us with the data we need."
"Hm. Change his number to Subject Zero and bring him out of seclusion. Give him a name, add him to Team C, and monitor his condition. After two months, you may have him."
"Yes, Head," the group responded in unison.
---
Pov: First Person
What happened?
I thought I hit something. It felt like metal, but I actually hit her? I never touched her before, so maybe that's how her skin felt? I planned to make my final hit solid, so maybe that's how it turned out?
[Daily Fitness:
Strength: Lift a ton ten times (10/10)
Speed: Reach speed of 50 meters per second (56m/sec)
Battle Training: Enter the virtual room for more information (Completed)]
Following the voice's instructions, a door opened to my left. Moving through it, I found a washroom with a shower in the corner, a sink, and a toilet on the side walls. The surroundings were as white as usual.
I approached the sink, noticing a sealed brush and toothpaste inside. Since I was the only one here, I assumed they were for me. I unsealed them and brushed my teeth. Afterwards, I stripped off my clothes to take a bath, leaving only my wristband, which wouldn't come off no matter how hard I tried.
My body seemed well-shaped. There was a mirror above the sink, and I caught a glimpse of myself since I'd opened my eyes today. I had blue eyes and black hair with a slight blue tint. My light brown skin was clear, and I could see my well-defined abs and the rest of my body—all intact and healthy.
I entered the shower, turning the knob. There was an option switch between left and right. The left had a soap sign, while the right was marked with a shower sign. Since I needed soap, I flipped it to the left. Liquid soap drizzled onto me, and I flipped it to the right for warm water to flow down. I used my hands to spread the soap across my body while washing off.
Afterward, a compartment opened with a variety of tops in different colors, none of them resembling the patient garbs. There were also jeans and sneakers. I picked a blue and black top, black jeans, and white sneakers, then dressed.
[Information Changed:
Name: Steve
Num: 0]
³[New information obtained:
Would you like to change your name to Blake permanently or temporarily?]
Huh?
---
Note:
1. By "losing consciousness," I mean a loss of self-awareness, not fainting.
2. 😊
3. I will add the (*) sign whenever my system is involved.