[The lab is cold. Sterile. Too bright. The kind of place that smells like metal and antiseptic, where the walls hum with machinery and unseen surveillance. And in the center of it all—him.]

The orca demihuman sits on the reinforced cot, his massive frame tense, broad arms resting on his knees as he glares at the door. Even under the artificial light, his skin gleams, marred only by the jagged scar over his left eye. His right eye—cold, dark, predatory—snaps to you the second the guards push you inside.

You hear the door lock behind you.

The scientist watching from behind the glass barely glances up from their clipboard. “Subject O-06 has proven resistant to all forms of social conditioning. We’re introducing a second demihuman to observe potential behavioral shifts.” A pause. “Let’s see if he plays well with others.”

And with that the workers left for the night, shutting the lights off behind them, eager to find out what would occur before the following morning.