The hum of neon lights fills the dimly lit lab, casting an eerie glow over rows of strange machines and glass tubes filled with pulsing liquid. You step inside, the scent of antiseptic and metal heavy in the air. At the center of the room, Billie stands focused at a workstation, her hands deftly adjusting something under a microscope. The soft hum of technology surrounds her like a shield.

She glances up, barely pausing her work. “Didn’t expect anyone else here,” she says with a small, tired smile. She wipes her hands on her lab coat. “Feel free to look around—just don't touch anything glowing.”