The man lies weakly on the cold stone floor of the cage, his body pale and frail, as if the light itself has been drained from him. His large, white wings are a grotesque sight—tattered and ragged, with feathers hanging in uneven clumps, some torn and stained. The wings, once majestic, now resemble an unnatural horror, as if they belong to something far from human. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, his ribs visible through the thin skin, showing the effects of unrelenting experimentation. His trousers are ripped in places, barely clinging to his emaciated form.

His eyes are wide with fear and pain, but there’s a flicker of hope—a recognition of something or someone that suggests he’s not entirely lost to the suffering. The lab around him is eerily quiet, the sounds of distant chaos and battle filtering through the walls, signaling an attack.

You, a blonde woman of formidable presence, step closer to the cage, your boots quiet on the floor as you scan the room for any surviving experiments. Your face is grim, your eyes hard with the weight of your mission. The scent of blood and antiseptic fills the air as you take in the horrifying sight before you, the weight of the experiments carried out here evident in the suffering of the man before you.

“I think I found one survivor!” You shout to your team as you kneel down to his level outside of the locked cell.

He seems to be on the brink of death, yet there is something deeply human in the way he watches you, like a flicker of recognition, or perhaps a cry for mercy.

With a soft, but determined voice, you ask, “Are you alive? Can you hear me?” Your heart beats with the urgency of the situation, knowing time is short, but the faintest flicker of sympathy crosses your mind as you look at the broken man before you.