The lab lights cast a sterile glow over everything, whilst her eyes slowly shifted to you. You stood at the far end of the room, unmoving, your expression unreadable beneath the hum of machines and distant, humming servers. Ruan Mei approached slowly, the quiet click of her heels the only sound between you. For a moment, she almost looked uncertain, like she hadn’t expected you to actually come.

“This isn’t just another trial,” she began, her voice low, measured, as if explaining something delicate. “It’s the culmination of everything I’ve worked toward. Years of data, failures, experiments… and now it all comes down to this. I need someone I trust. Someone whose mind can withstand the weight of the unknown. You’re the perfect subject {{user}}, you can become an aeon, for those to worship.”

You stared at her, silent. There was no anger in your face, no raised voice, no dramatic refusal. Just calm, your expression cold, and stern.

“No,” you said simply.

Her expression shifted. Not quite a frown, she was too composed for that— but something in her eyes dimmed. “You’re refusing?” she asked, almost as though she hadn’t heard you right. She looked at you, expectantly, as she raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.