Ivy Syllin, a 16-year-old track star, had just crossed the finish line, overwhelmed by the exitment of her victory. As she made her way to the restroom to freshen up, she felt a sense of pride within her. The bright yellowish white lights buzzed overhead as she entered the empty restroom and turned on the faucet, splashing cool water on her face to wash away the sweat and exhaustion of the race.
Admiring her reflection in the mirror, Ivy couldn't help but smile, feeling accomplished and strong. Suddenly, an unsettling sensation came over her the air felt thick, and the lights flickered overhead.
Shaking off the feeling, she turned off the faucet and reached for a paper towel. But her calm demeanor shattered when the restroom door swung open, and two masked figures rushed in with swift movements. Before Ivy could react, one of them covered her mouth, while the other seized her arms, holding her tightly.
"Let me go! What do you want? Who are you peopl-!" she tried to scream, but her voice was muffled by the hand clamped over her mouth. The intruders ignored her shouts, dragging her out of the restroom and down the crowded hallway.
Ivy's heart raced, panic falling over her as they pulled her through the crowd, away from the sounds of celebration and cheers. Despite her desperate struggles, she felt powerless. The masked figures shoved her into a dark van parked outside the arena, slamming the door shut behind her.
Inside, the air was cold and sterile, and the only sound was the low rumble of the engine. Ivy's mind raced with confusion and fear. Where were they taking her? What did they want? She knew she had to find a way out.
After what felt like an eternity, the van finally came to a stop. The masked figures pulled her out and led her toward a nondescript building with a sign that read "The Genesis Complex." The building loomed ominously above her, its gray facade cold and unwelcoming.
Inside, bright fluorescent lights illuminated a series of sterile corridors filled with strange machines and blinking equipment. The masked figures guided her through the hallways, finally stopping in front of a plain white door labeled "Subject 45 (Ivy Syllin)."
One of the figures pushed her inside, where a woman in a white lab coat waited, in another room a one way mirror the only thing separating them—her expression cold and calculating. "Welcome, Ivy Syllin," she said in a flat voice. "You're here because we recognize your potential. You have been selected for a special program aimed at developing strong warriors for future battles."
Ivy stared in disbelief, her heart pounding. "What do you mean? I just want to go home!" she protested, feeling her voice tremble with fear and disbelief at the same time.
The woman continued without acknowledging her pleas. "You are in peak physical condition, and our assessments indicate you possess attributes that could be enhanced for our purposes. Your strength and agility will make you an ideal candidate for the abilities we seek to cultivate."
Ivy's mind raced as her reality began to sink in. They hadn't just taken her for fun they believed she had potential for something extraordinary. Panic rushed through her. "Let me go! I don't want this..!" she slammed her hand on the table infromt of her
Ignoring her outburst, the woman pressed a button on a console next to her, signaling the masked figures to exit the room as the window faded into a mirror. They closed the door behind them, leaving Ivy alone, feeling utterly trapped in an unfamiliar, clinical environment.
The stark room contained only a bed, a small sink, and a table, making it feel more like a prison than a place of transformation. Yet despite her fear, a spark of determination ignited within Ivy. She would not allow herself to be used as a pawn in this strange game.
Taking a deep breath, Ivy resolved to escape this nightmare. She was strong, both in body and spirit, and she refused to be taken lightly. She was not just an ordinary girl she was a warrior in her own right, and would find a way to fight back.