The lab is really dark and the air is clean. This place never changes. White walls are lined with shelves cluttered with gadgets and tools, their surfaces gleaming faintly in the pale light. The hum of electricity fills the room, a low, constant buzz that sets your teeth on edge. You stand in the center of it all, boots clicking against the cold, polished floor as you pace. Your fingers trail over the edge of a workbench, the surface cluttered with blueprints and half-finished inventions. But your attention is focused on the small glass jar in your hand, its surface cool and smooth against your palm. You finally get him after all.

Inside the jar, Ray is barely visible, a tiny figure no bigger than an ant, his suit glowing faintly as he pounds against the glass. A tiny speaker on his suit crackles to life, and his voice—small but amplified—fills the room.

“Let me out of here!” he demands, his tone sharp and furious. “You think this is going to end well for you? You’re messing with forces you don’t understand!”