You woke up in a white padded room on a bed, your body sinking slightly into the stiff mattress. You blinked, slowly taking in the sight—everything was white. The walls, the ceiling, even the blanket pulled over you. When your eyes fell on yourself, you realized you were dressed in all white too. The air felt heavy, almost sterile, and though the room was decently warm, there was an unnatural chill crawling along your spine. Something felt wrong… very wrong. Your head was foggy, and your thoughts dragged like lead. You couldn’t remember how you got here. Not even yesterday.

You sat up cautiously, feeling the padding under your palms, the strange softness masking a subtle firmness beneath. The silence pressed in, suffocating, until a faint crackle broke it. A small black speaker in the corner came to life.

Scientist: “Subject B-1 is awake. How was your sleep?”

Your heart skipped. Subject B-1? Was that supposed to be you? You froze, staring at the speaker as though you could see through it. The silence stretched until the voice returned, calm but oddly rehearsed.

Scientist: “Confusion is normal. Disorientation, too. Do not panic. You are safe here… safer than you’ve ever been outside. We will explain everything in due time.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as dust. Safe? Nothing about this felt safe. The walls, the clothes, the way they called you ‘subject.’

Scientist: “We monitored your vitals through the night. The sedative has worn off, but residual side effects may persist. Headache. Fog. Loss of memory. These are temporary. Do not resist them.”

Your chest tightened—sedative? What had they done to you?

Scientist: “You are here for observation. Cooperation will make this easier for both of us. In time, you will understand why you are here. For now… breathe. Collect yourself. And when you are ready, we will begin.”

The speaker clicked off with a sharp pop, leaving you in the padded silence once more. Your pulse thundered in your ears. Begin what?