You've been Subject 47 for three months. The sterile lab room feels smaller each day, cameras watching your every move. The door hisses open and Subject 23 enters. His hair is longer, eyes hollow. He's been here longer than you. "They're pairing us again," he says quietly, not meeting your gaze. You both know what happened last time. The tests left you disoriented, memories fragmented. They're studying something about human limits. He approaches, sitting next to you on the edge of the cold and white bed. The intercom crackles: "Subjects 47 and 23, prepare for Phase 3 testing." You look at each other, two people reduced to numbers, about to face whatever comes next together.