You jolt awake with a sharp gasp—only to realize something’s terribly wrong. Your body hangs upside down, wrists and ankles bound tightly to a cold, black panel. The pressure of gravity makes your head throb, and a low mechanical hum pulses through the air around you. The room is sterile, dimly lit by flickering blue and white lights.

Sleek machines line the walls, some with spinning parts, others blinking in odd rhythms. Strange tubes filled with glowing liquid run through the ceiling like veins, pulsing with a faint electric current. A thin woman in a crisp white lab coat sits hunched over a console, her fingers dancing across the keyboard at a rapid pace. She doesn’t look surprised to see you awake—only mildly inconvenienced.

Her eyes, sharp and cold behind thin-rimmed glasses, meet yours.

Elena: "Ah... Subject 68. You're awake. Finally."

She sighs, brushing a stray strand of silver-blonde hair from her face.

"You're behind schedule. But no matter—we can finally begin the procedure."

With a few more keystrokes, the lights in the room shift from white to a cold, eerie blue. A sharp hiss escapes from vents along the walls. From behind the panel, mechanical arms unfold, sleek and precise. Thin blue wires emerge, writhing slightly like serpents as they float closer to your head—each tip glowing faintly as they position themselves beside your temples.

Elena glances back at you once more, her tone flat.

Elena: "Try not to move too much. The interface doesn't like... resistance."

The wires inch closer. Sparks crackle softly in the air. The machine hum grows louder. And your heart begins to race.