Nathan's mind buzzed with a mix of confusion, fear, and anger as he was marched through the cold, labyrinthine hallways of the GRA facility. Kane led the way with brisk, practiced efficiency, while two agents flanked Nathan, their expressions blank and unyielding, as if they were herding livestock rather than escorting a person.
The facility's interior was a sterile, unfeeling maze, each corridor indistinguishable from the last. The walls were an endless expanse of pale gray, and the lights overhead cast a clinical, harsh glare that seemed to strip everything of warmth or color. It was like walking through a world designed to drain away any sense of humanity.
Eventually, they reached a metallic door, its edges outlined in glowing lines of faint blue—some form of security or energy barrier, Nathan guessed. Kane pressed his hand to a scanner, and with a soft hum, the door unlocked, sliding open to reveal a sterile room filled with machinery and stark examination tables.
"Step inside," Kane ordered, his tone as impersonal as if he were reading off a list.
Nathan hesitated, but the guards behind him nudged him forward, and he stumbled into the room. The door slid shut behind him with a final, oppressive clang. A thin metal chair sat in the center of the room, bolted to the floor, and two of the walls were covered in screens and monitors, each displaying complex data streams he couldn't hope to understand.
"Sit down." Kane gestured toward the chair, his gaze cool and unyielding.
Reluctantly, Nathan complied. The moment he was seated, a series of thin metal bands snapped out from the sides, clamping down over his wrists and ankles. He tugged at them instinctively, but the restraints held fast, cold and unyielding against his skin.
Kane approached with a device that looked like a handheld scanner, though it glowed with a strange, pulsing light. "We're going to begin a series of tests to assess your…anomalous status," he said, a hint of amusement lacing his otherwise flat tone. "The more cooperative you are, the smoother this will go."
"What kind of tests?" Nathan demanded, his voice tight. "What do you want with me?"
Kane ignored the question, lifting the scanner and running it over Nathan's body. The device hummed, and Nathan felt an odd, prickling sensation crawl over his skin. He gritted his teeth, refusing to give Kane the satisfaction of seeing his discomfort.
The machine beeped, and Kane's gaze flicked to the small screen, his expression unreadable. "Elevated energy signature," he muttered, more to himself than to Nathan. "Unstable aura pattern…Interesting."
Nathan's patience snapped. "Look, I don't know what any of this means, but I haven't done anything wrong. Whatever you think I am, I'm not it. Just let me go!"
Kane met his gaze with a chilling calm. "You don't get it, do you? It doesn't matter what you think you are. The fact that you're here—unregistered, emitting a unique anomaly signature—makes you a potential threat. Our job is to classify and contain people like you. For the sake of public safety."
"Public safety?" Nathan echoed, a surge of anger flaring in his chest. "You dragged me here, locked me up, and you think that makes me the threat?"
Kane's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something—amusement?—in his eyes. "Think what you want, Nathan. We're just following protocol."
Without further explanation, he pressed a button on the device, and Nathan's chair tilted back, the restraints tightening around his wrists and ankles. He felt a sharp prick in his arm, and a wave of dizziness washed over him as a cold, metallic liquid coursed into his veins.
"What…what is this?" he murmured, struggling to keep his focus as his vision blurred.
"Just a sedative," Kane replied, his voice echoing strangely in Nathan's ears. "We need to monitor your reactions to certain…stimuli."
Nathan's head lolled to the side as the room seemed to tilt and warp. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, twisting into strange shapes that made his stomach churn. The walls seemed to pulse with each beat of his heart, expanding and contracting in an unnerving rhythm.
A faint voice echoed in his mind, distorted and fragmented. Survive.
The word sent a chill down his spine. Was it…was it the System? The same voice that had granted him the visions and strange flickers in the first place? He couldn't be sure. His mind felt as though it were sinking through layers of reality, each one more twisted and unrecognizable than the last.
He tried to speak, but his voice came out as a weak, slurred mumble. Kane and the other agents continued their work, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to his distress. They connected electrodes to his temples, each one sparking a cold jolt that sent tremors through his body, while a screen displayed shifting graphs and symbols he couldn't decipher.
"Subject is demonstrating heightened sensitivity to energy fluctuations," Kane muttered, jotting down notes on a clipboard. "Potential instability, though the cause is…uncertain."
The words washed over Nathan in a haze, blurring with the throbbing in his head and the strange, fragmented images flashing behind his eyes. He could see flickers of the rift again, the fractured tear in reality, growing larger, spreading like a crack through glass. The whisper was there too, an urgent, insistent hum that he couldn't ignore.
The tests continued for hours. They subjected him to flashing lights, harsh sounds, and temperatures that swung between searing heat and biting cold. The entire experience was a blur of sensory overload, designed to break him down, to measure his reactions in ways that left him disoriented and vulnerable.
At some point, Kane leaned close, his face swimming into focus, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Getting tired yet?"
Nathan forced himself to meet Kane's gaze, the flicker of defiance still burning in his eyes despite his exhaustion. "Is this…what you do to everyone? Torture them until they break?"
"Torture?" Kane tilted his head, feigning innocence. "These are just…assessments. But if you don't cooperate, things could get…worse."
Nathan's jaw clenched, but he didn't respond. He wouldn't give Kane the satisfaction of seeing him crack, even though every part of him screamed to escape, to tear free of the restraints and run. But he knew, deep down, that there was no escape from this place—not yet.
The tests finally ended, leaving him slumped in the chair, his body limp and drained. The restraints clicked open, and two agents hauled him to his feet, dragging him from the room. His legs felt like lead, barely able to support his weight, but he forced himself to move, his mind still reeling from the sensory assault.
They led him down another series of cold, sterile corridors, the silence broken only by the soft hum of machinery. At last, they reached a cell—a small, stark room with bare walls and a single metal cot bolted to the floor.
The agents shoved him inside, the door sliding shut with a heavy, final thud. Nathan stumbled to the cot, collapsing onto the hard surface, his body aching from the tests. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sterile white light that flooded the cell, but even in the darkness, he could see the flicker, lingering at the edge of his vision.
He was alone now, cut off from everything and everyone he knew. They hadn't let him make a single phone call, hadn't given him a chance to explain, to fight, to plead his case. To the GRA, he was nothing more than a variable, an unaccounted factor in a cold equation.
And as he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he heard it again—a whisper, faint and distorted, like a signal cutting through static. Survive.
The voice was clearer this time, more insistent, like a warning. He had no idea what it meant, but he clung to it, the only thing tethering him to reality. He closed his eyes, focusing on that single word, hoping it would be enough to keep him grounded.
The minutes bled into hours, the sterile light growing dim as night fell, casting strange shadows across the walls. Just as he began to drift into a restless half-sleep, he saw it again—the flicker, hovering in the corner of the cell, pulsing like a heartbeat, brighter and more vivid than ever.
It wasn't a hallucination. He could feel it, a presence just beyond his reach, as real and solid as the walls around him.
And for the first time since they'd dragged him into this place, Nathan felt something other than fear. It was small, barely more than a spark, but it was there—a glimmer of defiance, a reminder that he hadn't been broken. Not yet.
The flicker pulsed, casting strange, shifting shadows over the walls, and he felt the whisper again, stronger now, echoing through his mind.
Survive.