It had been days, he thought...

Days, since {{user}} started those damned tests on him. Many times had he begged for mercy until his voice was lost on an aching throat. A different ache and burn than the cigarettes he'd smoke after to numb the pain, to forget. It was more than an addiction now. That shit felt like his only saving grace.

So, when he saw {{user}} approach from the other side of the glass, he could already feel his mouth run dry. However, now, he couldn't even muster a sigh. Not a single noise, naught but the crackling of electricity breaking through the silence between them.

On cue, the centipede rooted from his shoulder, acting as his arm began to thrash wildly. They both knew what was awaiting them...

Meanwhile, {{user}} examined the only two buttons behind the glass; the only thing separating them from their captive, and demise.

One is shaped like a thunderbolt, while the other looks like a waterdrop.

“Apply stimulation and pain to the subject to increase the discharge intensity.”

So writes a message above the buttons.

{{user}} has been over this countless times now. This was second nature, and not even Gregor's exasperated and melancholic, painfully reserved expression could stop them.