The pair enter inside, the glass doors hissing closed behind them.
Inside, the laboratory was nothing like the marble grandeur above.
It was sterile.
White walls. White floors. White ceiling panels inset with thin, surgical lighting.
The contrast between the smiling students and horrific screams were immense.
They entered a hallway with a red circle above the doorway.
"My lab is at red 13," Vale exclaimed calmly.
Passing by red 7, the door impromptly opened, 3 men dressed in orange with bags covering their face's walked out, escorted by one of those guards wearing heavy hyper armor and wielding a carbine.
"What the fuck." Ryven muttered as they walked past.
"Who are they?" He questioned as they continued walking.
"They're prisoners." Vale said calmly.
"Instead of facing the firing squad, they volunteered to be used for testing, where if they survive a year, they'd be pardoned."
Ryven's face scrunches.
'They're probably responsible for those screams then.'
"Don't you feel bad for them?" He asked, as they approached Red 13.
She stops for a moment, giving him a small glare.
"Don't feel bad for them, we'll be testing on them to. They're criminals. Worst of the worst in sector 7. Plus, they volunteered. No need to feel bad." She continued, flashing him a smile.
"It just seems a bit… inhumane, does it not?"
"It feels like that at first," she responds, "but soon even you will realize that through this system of sacrifice, humanity is able to develop and adapt, impower itself in a way no other species could. Not using those vile individuals to the best of our ability would merely be ruining their sacrifice." She finished, reaching the entrance to her laboratory.
"Now, why don't we step inside." She says opening the door for him.
Ryven takes a deep breath, wondering just what to anticipate.
Finally, after a moment, he peered inside.
The room was white, filled with various machines and screens, along with an ominous door.
"Let me boot up my computer before you enter."
Ryven examined the door closely. It was made of heavy metal, seemingly like one used to keep deranged prisoners in cells.
"What exactly is it you'll have me do?"
Vale smiled.
…
"Where are you taking me!?" A man with blue hair and brown eyes dressed in an orange jump suit screamed out as he was dragged out of his prison cell.
"I was just about to use the toilet!" He tried to exclaim, but the two guards ignored him.
"Layla! Help me!" He screamed, being dragged past a cell with a single woman who was sitting on the side of her bed.
She merely smiled as the man got dragged away.
"Just endure it a little longer!" She called out with excitement.
He scoffed. "Just a bit longer." He repeated as he was dragged up flights of stairs, past groups of both students and faculty. He was eventually dragged into a room, and strapped to a chair with merely a pair of handcuffs.
Watching the super soldiers leave, he released a small frown.
"Do they seriously think these cuffs can hold me? This is a bit insulting." He chuckled to himself.
He waited in silence, staring at the door. Hell, even if he escaped, he had no where to go. Either the guards or some random sleeper would grab him, or probably kill him.
"Fucking monsters." He said quietly under his breathe.
It didn't take long before the door opened, and a young man— no, a boy, opened the door. He scoffed. A teenager?
He had dark messy hair with a delicate face that was covered in small cuts and scars. Perhaps he's recently been in some sort of accident.
Ryven approached, saying nothing. He seemed a bit jittery as he stood in front of the man who only looked back at him with some confused expression.
"Can you feel anything?" A female voice asks through the speaker.
"No." Ryven shakes his head. This man seems to pose no threat to him.
"Well then, let's begin."
"Wait what's going on?"
The blue haired man didn't get a response.
"Now do as I instructed." Vale said calmly.
Ryven looked up into the corner of the room, staring directly into the camera, giving Vale a strange look, seemingly asking her if this was actually going to work.
He just sighed as he held out his arm, placing the palm of his hand on the prisoner's forehead.
"What are you doing?" He asks, pulling away.
"Just stay still." Ryven commanded, gripping the man by the hair and pulling him in closer. He followed Vale's instructions, extending his hand.
"Now flex your arm," Vale continued. "Not like you're punching. Like you're trying to tense every muscle from shoulder to wrist."
Ryven inhaled and did as she said. His arm stiffened, veins rising faintly beneath his skin.
"What are you doing—" the prisoner winced.
"Now your fingers," Vale added. "Curl them. Slowly. Like you're trying to clench his face… but don't close your hand."
Ryven hesitated.
"That's it," Vale murmured. "Hold it there."
His fingers bent inward, trembling, hovering just shy of gripping.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
The prisoner scoffed nervously. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Ryven was about to pull away when he felt something.
It began as pressure in his palm. A faint throbbing warmth that didn't belong to him. His breath stilled.
The room faded into darkness as his eyes closed.
There was an itch again, but this time it felt as if it was draining from the prisoner into him like some sort of weird plasmatic liquid.
The prisoner began to scream out, loud and sudden.
The warmth sharpened into sensation.
It wasn't touch.
But it was something.
A presence pressed against his own thoughts. Jagged. Loud. Restless.
Ryven's fingers twitched instinctively.
He felt as if his brain was being pushed together with something, kind of like a magnet getting forcefully pushed into another.
He swallowed, unsure what he was doing, only following instinct.
The tension in his arm deepened.
The space between his curled fingers and the man's skin felt… thin.
Sort of fragile.
He felt something give.
Not physically.
Something beneath the surface.
A thread.
No.
A current.
It vibrated against his palm.
The man's screams grew more and more guttural as they continued.
his fingers curled tighter without closing.
And he pulled.
Not with muscle.
But more like intent.
The resistance stretched like elastic.
The man's screams felt inhuman and vibrated through Ryven's body.
And suddenly, he fell silent.
His body went slack.
Head dropping forward.
Ryven staggered back, ripping his hand away as if burned.
The cuffs clinked softly as the man's limp form hung in the chair.
Silence.
Ryven's pulse roared as he opened his eyes, his vision returning to him.
"I—"
Movement caught his eye.
The prisoner was standing.
Three steps away from his own body.
He looked exactly the same, blue hair, orange jumpsuit, but faint around the edges, like heat distortion in the air.
He blinked.
Looked down at the slumped body.
Then back at his own hands.
"…What?"
Ryven's mouth went dry.
The prisoner took a cautious step. His feet made no sound.
"Why isn't he moving?" The prisoner asked slowly, staring at himself.
Ryven could hear him clearly.
But the cameras didn't shift.
The hallway outside remained quiet.
No one reacted.
The prisoner turned toward the door and ran straight through it.
He passed through the metal like smoke, reappearing through the other side of the room like some sort of invisible loop.
"Okay… okay… that's not normal. That's really not normal."
Ryven stared at him, breathing uneven. "Vale…"
"Yes?" Her voice was steady.
"What is this?"