The days blurred together in an endless loop of confinement and silence. The room was sterile and cold, a featureless cell with no windows and only a single door that never opened unless they wanted something from me. The metallic hum of machinery was the only constant companion, a maddening backdrop to my isolation. My body still felt strange, heavy, like I was swimming through sludge. They had done something to me, something I didn't understand.
I stared at the ceiling for hours, replaying every moment before Corella's shot in my mind. The way her eyes softened for a brief second before she pulled the trigger. The way my life bled out as I welcomed death. And now, Dr. Royce, that smug bastard, had torn away even that peace.
They hadn't just saved me—they had remade me. For their purposes. I was a tool now, a puppet they planned to use. My own body felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else, as if the person who died in that chair wasn't me.
One thing kept gnawing at me: Corella. What did they mean by "using her"? Why had they let her think I was dead? I clenched my fists, feeling the veins in my arms pulse unnaturally. No matter what they had done, no matter what twisted game they were playing, I couldn't shake the pull that Corella had on me. She had gotten to me—first as a target, and then, somehow, as something more.
But now, I needed answers.
The door finally slid open, breaking my thoughts. Dr. Royce stepped in, his expression as cold and indifferent as ever. Behind him, two guards in black uniforms flanked the entrance, their hands resting casually on their holstered weapons. Royce approached, his footsteps echoing on the sterile floor, and sat down in front of me without a word.
He studied me for a moment, as if assessing the results of his experiment. "You're adjusting well," he finally said, his voice calm and measured. "That's good. We were worried you wouldn't make it past the first week."
"What did you do to me?" I asked, my voice rough from disuse.
Royce's eyes flickered with amusement. "We saved you."
I slammed my fist on the metal table between us, the sound reverberating through the room. "Don't play games with me. What did you do to me?"
Royce leaned back in his chair, unbothered by my outburst. "You were dying, and we gave you a second chance. We've improved you, enhanced you, so that you can be of use to us. Your mind, your body—it's all working at levels you wouldn't have imagined before. You may feel strange now, but that will pass. Soon, you'll be stronger than ever."
I stared at him, the implications sinking in. "You've turned me into some kind of weapon."
"We've given you a gift," Royce corrected. "You should be thanking us."
I grit my teeth, my mind racing. They had rebuilt me, made me something else—a tool for them to use however they saw fit. But I wasn't just going to accept that. I wasn't their puppet. If they thought they could control me, they were wrong.
"Corella," I said suddenly, my voice low. "Where is she?"
Royce's expression didn't change, but I could see the slightest flicker of recognition in his eyes. "She's exactly where we need her to be."
"What does that mean?" I pressed. "What are you doing to her?"
He smiled faintly, leaning forward. "Corella is on a mission. She thinks she's still chasing CAT, but in reality, she's following the trail we've laid for her. She'll do the hard work of dismantling what's left of your organization, and by the time she's finished, there won't be anything left."
My pulse quickened. They were using her, just like they were using me. They had turned Corella into an unwitting pawn, leading her into their trap. And when she had outlived her usefulness, they would discard her—just like they planned to discard me.
"You're going to kill her," I said, the realization sinking in.
Royce shrugged. "She's disposable, like all assets. But for now, she's helping us. That's all that matters."
I felt a surge of anger rising in my chest. Corella was dangerous, ruthless, and had pulled the trigger without hesitation. But she didn't deserve to be manipulated like this. She thought she was in control, that she was hunting down the last remnants of CAT, but she didn't know she was being hunted herself.
And I couldn't let that happen.
I leaned back, forcing myself to stay calm. "And what about me? What's your plan for me?"
Royce's eyes gleamed. "That depends on you. You can cooperate, help us bring down the rest of your organization, or we can make things... difficult for you. You'll still serve your purpose, one way or another. But how you experience the rest of your existence is entirely up to you."
He stood up and adjusted his suit, signaling that our conversation was over. "I suggest you take some time to think about your future. You've been given a rare opportunity, after all. Most people don't get a second chance."
I watched him walk to the door, my mind racing. I wasn't going to let them win. I wasn't going to let them turn me into their weapon or use Corella to finish off CAT.
As the door slid shut behind Royce, I stared at the ceiling, my resolve hardening. I needed to get out of here. I needed to find Corella. And I needed to take back control of my life.
Whatever they had done to me, whatever they had turned me into, I would use it against them. I would tear down their plans, destroy their operations, and make them regret ever thinking they could control me.
This wasn't the end.
It was just the beginning.