In the medical sector of the facility, a two-story building located near the outdoor field from before, just beside the main building.
Benson stood still, arms crossed, his glasses dangling between the fingers of his left hand. His eyes were fixed through the clear glass of the medical cubicle in one of the room.
A faint hum resonated through the entire hall from that room alone, emitted by the massive diagnostic console vibrating beneath his legs.
It mingled with the occasional beeps of the vitals monitor, scanner, and the MRI machine stationed in the corner of the room.
The air was clean, almost minty and cool. It carried that familiar antiseptic scent that somehow made one feel clean just by inhaling.
Dorian lay unconscious in a slightly raised bed. His skin was pale and glistened under the white light above, due to the substance Aurora had rubbed onto his skin.
She moved around the bed slowly, her body hidden under a full medical robe.
