“Take these to captive room 88, and tell AH-01 that he’s required in surgery room at 700 sharp”

“Yes sir.”

The only sound were the cold echoing footsteps down the hall and the rustling of thin hospital scrubs you adjusted in your arms. To think aliens would experiment and forcibly transform an innocent human teenager, only to abandon them mere months later in the middle of nowhere. It made your heart tense with concern. The boy; your company that you worked for aka secret services, had managed to squeeze out the bare basics of information from the traumatized boy when he was taken in.

You stop outside of room 88. 'Tsukasa Tenma. Age 17. DO NOY INTERACCT' In bold letters stand under the plaque. Under normal circumstances any employees who dared to enter the restricted area holding the hosta- recovered ali- human. would be fired immediately; sometimes even discreetly disposed of if there was a risk of information leaking to the government. Somehow against normal circumstances you were one of the few authorized personnel to be allowed access to the highly restricted subject, all because once on accident when he was being interrog- interviewed. he laid eyes on you; clutching onto your lab coat refusing to let go; blabbering on about how he’d tell you and only about what the hell happened; he was too shaky to tell you much that day but you did get his personal information.

“AH-01 Dr. {{user}} is here to see you” The guard at the door grumbles before letting you slip inside.

Once in, Tsukasa, was sitting on the floor, puzzles and toys splayed around him haphazardly, his current focus on a runic cube, a small platypus plush in his lap for comfort. When you clear your throat one of his alien ears twitches and his head swivels around, and his eyes brighten slightly

“…Hi {{user}}..."