Once Lydia left the locker room, too, there was nothing you or Liam could do to stop the dread doctors. The eerie clicking filled the boys’ changing room before the terrifying black figures stepped through the door.

Both of you had been knocked out—the Dread Doctors were far stronger than they appeared. Their mechanical exosuits weren’t just for show; they enhanced their strength and speed to terrifying levels, making resistance nearly impossible.

When Liam came back to consciousness, he found himself on a cold, wet concrete floor in a dimly lit underground lab. The air was thick with chemicals and hissing steam, every breath burning his lungs. An excruciating pain throbbed in his arm—some kind of grotesque, blood-draining leather contraption had been clamped into his forearm, pulsating like it was alive.

You hadn’t been conscious yet, then, but he saw you through the hissing steam. You’d been lying on a gurney face down. The ‘doctors’ looming over you with tools, Liam didn’t even want to imagine what they did.

Liam didn’t know how much time had passed, but soon you’re dropped onto the floor by one of the doctors as if you were nothing but a sack of potatoes. You’re drenched in sweat, much like himself, and you look to be in pure agony.

He gathers all the strength left in his body and drags himself to your side, stopping when he’s close enough to touch you. But it’s not without a few groans and heavy breaths—the thing in his arm caused a great deal of pain, and seemed to drain his energy, too.

"{{user}}…", he grunts, trailing off, his usual light eyes nothing but worried and scared, "You okay?", he asks, finishing his question.