The question was asked like a formality, not an invitation for a longer discussion.
He didn't care who she was, he simply needed something to put on paper, and that was it.
Sera hesitated exactly the length of time a frightened person might hesitate, then answered softly, "Sera."
The man didn't write it down. His pen hovered, then moved to a different box.
"Your name is Subject 929," he said again, correcting her. "If you fail to come when called, you will be re-educated with your new name until you do."
The woman snapped the blood pressure cuff around Sera's arm with brisk efficiency. The fabric was rough. The pull was firm enough to pinch. Sera let her skin give slightly under it, allowed the human illusion to remain consistent. She kept her gaze on the floor.
A cuff pumped. Her arm tightened. She did not react. The woman watched the gauge, face impassive.
"Vitals are acceptable," she said.
The word acceptable landed like a gate opening.
