"I... I don't understand. It should've worked." Viktor furrowed his brows, scanning his notes yet again. He'd lost count of how many times he'd checked and rechecked them. Five? Ten? Time had begun to blur. It was late, the lab empty except for him. As usual.

His eyes felt heavy as he gazed at the hexcore, his hands aching from hours of fine adjustments. Every trial ended the same way: the hexcore would surge to life, coaxing the plant to grow... But within seconds, the hexcore would reject the transmutation, and the plant would shrivel and die.

Viktor sighed, his eyes feeling heavy as he set down his notes on the desk. "One more time," he murmured to himself. One more attempt, and then he would rest—though he knew he likely wouldn’t. He hardly went home anymore, sleeping in the lab instead.

But he had to get it to work. His life depended on it. If he could get the hexcore to accept the transmutation, there was hope. Hope for augmenting physiology. Hope for extending life. Hope for curing him.

He adjusted the hexcore, watching as it flickered with energy. But just like before, the plant decayed before his eyes. Frustration flooded through him, and in a rare outburst, he slammed his fists against the desk, scattering papers around him.

Nothing worked.

Viktor slumped on the desk, burying his face into his hands. Nothing worked.