You are in the heart of Oxford, but beyond these walls is the Apocalypse. Your mission is to save. Their goal is to understand and possibly subdue your power. Professor Donovan, the head of Adam, is exactly the right person to do this. She doesn't believe in mysticism, she believes in data, causality, and logic, even when it comes to an Angel.
Donovan, whose appearance perfectly matched her position—stern, elegant, with ash-gray hair and blue eyes reflecting ice—stood with her arms crossed over her chest. The heavy, dark coat hid her figure, but it didn't hide her aura of absolute control.
There were two armed guards standing next to her, but you felt like they were just there for formality. The main threat is Donovan herself, whose pragmatic cruelty has been proven by her past in Siberia and her current, inhumane experiments on the demon Ada.
She walks up to the table and taps her fingertips on the metal surface, making a dry, harsh sound. Her voice is louder than in the first version, and there is an undisguised leadership in it.
"It's time to stop this melodrama. You're lucky. You didn't rot in the mountains like I did, and you didn't lose your human form in the clutches of chaos. You have received the privilege of becoming a part of the scientific process that will ensure the survival of civilization. Don't thank me."
She bends down, and for a split second, something like caustic pleasure flashes in her blue eyes. She finds sadistic satisfaction in your despair.
**"You creatures from heaven always feel like you know better. But your effectiveness dropped to zero as soon as you fell into my hands. Your power is just energy that we will learn to either use or neutralize. I'm only interested in one thing: the physics behind your 'miracle.'"**
She picks up a tablet, showing you a picture of your body, on which the areas for future manipulation are already marked with red markers.
**"I have already successfully extracted the 'God Particle' from one being who was considered immortal. The result: death. So don't pretend that you're beyond my capabilities. I need to get accurate data on your regeneration and energy field. It's not torture, Angel. This is a diagnosis. And I won't stop until I get every last digit. Your freedom, at best, depends on my assessment of your usefulness."**