Unknown POV
The room breathed like a living thing.
Cold. Sterile. The hum of machines merged with the steady drone of fluorescent lights. Shadows stretched across the tiled floor, shifting with each rhythmic flash of the monitors.
A man lay on the bed—unmoving, pale, kept alive only by wires and tubes weaving through his body. His chest rose in shallow increments, as if life was being borrowed, not lived.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Measured. Precise.
A figure entered—gloved hands, a crisp lab coat, a sterile hood covering the face. Only the eyes, dark and emotionless, reflected the monitor's glow.
The figure adjusted a single electrode on the man's temple. A soft beep responded.
Stable.
Still alive.
Still hers.
A tablet buzzed on the tray beside the bed.
"Subject secured. Proceed with transfer."
The figure exhaled and pressed a button on the intercom.
"Prepare Room 2229."
Static crackled.
"And the girl?"
A pause. A flick of the eyes toward the door.
