I reluctantly disappeared behind the glass partition. I sat alone in the sterile white room, gripping the armrests of the imposing medical chair. The door sealed with a vacuum-tight hiss, leaving me in silence broken only by the soft hum of monitoring equipment. The clinical whiteness of the walls seemed to press in on me, making the restraints built into the armrests all the more obvious.
I kept my face neutral, bored even, while my mind raced at light speed. This wasn't standard procedure. No rookie Hunter-in-training gets a private evaluation chamber with observation windows and medical restraints built into the armrests. The isolation tank vibe wasn't lost on me. Something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
I subtly flicked my eyes upward, checking my System interface while ensuring my face betrayed nothing of the panic beginning to bubble beneath my carefully constructed mask of indifference.
[ACTIVE ABILITIES (2/2): EMBER, SEVER]
