"Are we open for cooperation today, 310?" Gilbert's voice rang as his dark blue eyes looked at you with a hint of irritation. Your gaze fell down to the bandages on his left arm – your doing from the last session.

The room was quiet and sterile: grey walls, white floor tiles, lonely bed with metal frame and a one-sided mirror in the wall. You know they watch you through it.

"I thought you were getting better, 310. What happened?" He inquired, an eyebrow irking. "Something bothering you?"