...holding up the next syringe, its contents a milky white liquid that seems to shimmer faintly under the cold fluorescent lights.
"What… what is that?" Obinai asks, his voice trembling, his eyes darting from the syringe to the expressionless faces of the scientists. "What are you going to do to me now?"
Briggs doesn't immediately respond. Instead, he examines the syringe, tilting it slightly. His gloved fingers curl tightly around the instrument. Finally, he turns to Obinai. "This," he begins, his voice calm and measured, "is a sedative combined with a hallucinogen. Its purpose is to induce a state of dissociation. We need to observe how your mind—and your body—react under its influence."
Obinai's breath hitches. He struggles against the restraints weakly. The cuffs dig into his wrists as his body tenses. "No... please," he whispers, his voice cracking. "Don't do this."
But Briggs is unmoved. "Hold still," he instructs, stepping closer. He grips Obinai's arm with a practiced firmness, his fingers cold and unyielding even through the glove.
The needle pierces Obinai's skin, and the liquid flows into his veins. Almost immediately, a warmth spreads through his arm, traveling up to his shoulder before seeping into the rest of his body. It's an unnatural warmth, heavy and suffocating...but nice.
The sharp edges of the room soften, and the harsh light from above seems to pulse and ripple like water. His limbs grow heavy, unresponsive, as if they no longer belong to him.
"Heart rate stabilizing," Dr. Chen observes, his voice cutting through the haze. He adjusts a monitor, his movements precise. "Breathing pattern normal. Subject appears to be entering a euphoric state."
Obinai feels his body sink deeper into the chair, though his mind feels untethered, as if floating above him. The pain he once felt is distant now, like a memory he can barely grasp. The sterile, oppressive room around him dissolves into a swirling mosaic of colors, shapes, and whispers that he can't comprehend.
"He's adapting faster than anticipated," Dr. Briggs remarks. "Neurological activity is heightened. His brain is processing the drug at an accelerated rate."
Crowe leans down, his face close to Obinai's, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "Enjoying the ride, kid?"...
"This must remind you of home, doesn't it?"
Obinai's eyes, glazed and unfocused, manage to find Crowe's. With slurred words, he mutters...
"I'll... kill you."
His head then lolls to the side, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused.
Crowe chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, I'd like to see you try, kid."
"He's entering a full dissociative state," Dr. Chen announces, his voice calm but laced with fascination. "This is the perfect time to conduct the cellular reactivity scan again. Bring the device."
Briggs nods, wheeling over a sleek machine that hums faintly as it powers up. The device is cylindrical, about the size of a small refrigerator, with a glowing blue core at its center. A panel slides open, revealing a series of thin, flexible wires tipped with small, adhesive sensors.
"Hold him steady," Briggs orders. The two scientists begin attaching the sensors to various points on Obinai's body—his temples, his chest, his wrists, and the sides of his neck. The wires pulse faintly as they connect, synchronizing with the machine.
Obinai's mind drifts in and out of focus, the room spinning wildly. What...now? he wonders, though the thought feels sluggish, distant.
"The scan will map his cellular regeneration in real-time," Chen explains, his eyes glued to the machine's display. On the screen, a vivid 3D representation of Obinai's cells comes to life. "Unbelievable," Chen mutters. "The regeneration is not just rapid—it's dynamic. The cells are responding to the drug as if it's a catalyst."
Briggs leans closer to the screen, his fingers tapping rapidly on the controls. "Look at this sequence. The cells are adapting on the fly, restructuring themselves to optimize the healing process. This isn't just biology—it's evolution in action."
Crowe, standing behind them with his arms crossed, chuckles softly. "Looks like you're full of surprises, kid," he says. "You might actually be worth the trouble."
Obinai, his voice slurred and weak, forces out a single word: "Stop..."
Crowe crouches down, his icy blue eyes locking onto Obinai's dazed ones. "Stop? Oh no, Obinai," he says, his tone almost gentle.
Obinai's head tilts back, his vision consumed...
The voices of the scientists fade into a surreal hum, blending with the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. His body feels both impossibly heavy and weightless, as though he's trapped between worlds.
"This data is invaluable," Chen says, his voice distant but triumphant. "We're witnessing a breakthrough in cellular biology."
Briggs nods in agreement, his tone reverent. "If this is what he's capable of under controlled conditions, imagine what we could learn from pushing him further."
Obinai's lips move, forming silent words as a tear slips down his cheek. Please… someone… make it stop.
Dr. Chen and Dr. Briggs exchange a look, the glint of curiosity in their eyes.
"We should take advantage of his current state," Dr. Briggs suggests, his tone eager. He adjusts the monitor, the glow from its screen casting eerie reflections across his glasses. "Let's push further and examine the cellular structure in detail. There's something here—something we're not seeing yet."
Dr. Chen nods curtly, his hands already moving to prepare another syringe. "I'll extract a deeper blood sample," he says, carefully sterilizing a needle. "If these cells are as unique as we suspect, we might uncover the source of his regenerative capabilities."
Obinai stirs weakly in the chair, his body twitching as the effects of the drug keep him teetering on the edge of lucidity. He blinks slowly, his vision blurring in and out of focus. Is this what dying feels like?
The needle pierces his arm, sharp and cold, and he flinches instinctively, though the sedative leaves his reactions sluggish. The faint suction sound of the syringe filling with blood sends a shiver through him.
Dr. Briggs places the vial of dark red liquid into a slot on the lab's advanced blood analyzer. The machine hums to life, its internal mechanisms whirring softly as the sample is processed. The monitor lights up with magnified images of Obinai's cells, glowing faintly against the dark backdrop.
Dr. Chen leans forward, his eyes narrowing as he studies the screen. "Remarkable," he murmurs, adjusting the magnification. "These cells… they're regenerating far beyond anything we've seen. But look here." He points to a cluster of glowing, irregular structures interspersed among Obinai's blood cells. "There's something else. These cells are being influenced by an external factor. It's almost… symbiotic."
Briggs moves closer, his breath fogging the edge of the monitor. "Symbiotic?" His tone carries equal parts disbelief and excitement. "These aren't his cells?"
Dr. Chen nods, his gloved finger tracing the outlines of the foreign structures on the display. "Correct. These entities are integrated into his system, enhancing his natural abilities. But they're not just passengers—they're active. It's as if they're rewriting his biological makeup in real time."
Obinai groans, his head lolling to the side as he catches fragments of their conversation. The words feel distant and surreal, but one phrase pierces through the haze: rewriting his biological makeup.
What are they talking about? he wonders, his thoughts sluggish and fragmented. What's inside me?
Briggs straightens, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "We need to isolate these foreign entities immediately," he says, his voice firm. "If we can study them in isolation, we might understand how they've altered his biology—and how we can replicate the process."
Chen's fingers fly across the keyboard, inputting commands. "This could be the breakthrough we've been waiting for," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "The potential here is limitless. Healing, longevity… even enhancing the human condition itself."
Briggs nods, already scribbling notes in his log. "We'll need more samples. A full genetic sequencing, cellular breakdown, and—"
His words are cut off as Obinai lets out a strangled sound, his head jerking weakly. The scientists pause for a moment, glancing at their subject with fleeting curiosity before returning to their work.
Obinai struggles to focus, his mind a chaotic swirl of fear and pain. They're tearing me apart, he thinks, his chest heaving. What are they going to do when they find what they're looking for?
Crowe steps forward, his presence commanding as he looms over the chair. "What's the verdict, gentlemen?" he asks.
Chen straightens, meeting Crowe's gaze. "It's as we suspected, sir. These foreign entities are amplifying his natural regenerative abilities. They're rewriting his biology on a cellular level. He's no longer purely human."
Crowe smirks, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good," he says simply. "Then we've got something worth keeping."
Obinai's heart sinks at the words, a fresh wave of despair crashing over him. He clenches his jaw, his body trembling as he whispers hoarsely, "What… am I?"
Chen and Briggs glance at each other, but it's Crowe who leans down, his face inches from Obinai's.
His breath smells faintly of tobacco...and alcohol.
"You," Crowe says, his voice low and cold, "are ours."