"It is just Dr Note, and I would not proceed unless everything was ready and in order, [i]Dr Watson[/i]" He said coldly, shooting a grim look over at his 'new' colleague, trying to look at her in a way that the screen of the hazmat suit didn't catch the glare of the lights. Did she think he was some foolhardy fresh faced novice? Inspecting him as if she expected there to be some flaw in the product. Well, he was hardly flawless and neither was anyone in any aspect, but he was certainly not incompetent in any sense. He didn't know what misguided impression or unfounded gossip the good doctor might have chanced upon, but he doubted she would find any truth behind it. And hopefully, he would find out who was responsible for spreading such nonsense as well. "I advise you focus on yourself, Dr Watson. The board does not take kindly to any [i]mistakes[/i] made, often they terminate them." He added the last with a hint of unintentional malice. Shrugging off the hand on his shoulder, he sent a glare to the man, starting to feel uncomfortable with the growing crowd. He was not good with people. "[i]This is a place of work Dr Schwarzlitch not socialization, I suggest you hurry to your own ward.[/i]" He muttered, stalking away from them down the long winding hallway, his attention returning back to his own clipboard, looking over the notes of patient #774. The young man's name and picture were underwhelming, his life story; worse than underwhelming. He glossed over those unavailing details and flipped the chart over to his medical history. Feeling his aforementioned nervousness grow as he scanned all the 'reassuring' details of the subject's violent history with the medical staff. [i]Heavy depression...Dissociative personality disorder...Multiple personalities..Lapse in rational judgement, as expected...[/i] Well, if their money had been well spent, he should have only one personality left, whether what remained was this violent sociopath 'Bruce' as named or 'Adam' still remained to be seen. By the time that he had finished reading his file, he looked up to find the dark bold numbers '#774' staring him straight in the face, his colleague having already departed to a different part of the ward. Taking a breath, he signaled to the cameras before passing his identification card through the scanner, then punching in a code. Waiting for verification from the system and the security personnel. Things were tight here, not even a 10-pin code and personalized identity card could be trusted anymore. Doors had to be accessed remotely via an ever vigilant group of technicians/security. It was the 21st century for crying out loud and he needed to wait for someone else to open a door for him. He pondered how backwards they had gone whilst the many intricate locking mechanisms behind the door clicked and whirled, magnetizing and demagnetizing. After the first door slid open there was a second door requiring yet another 10-pin code though it was at least it opened on it's own since there were no cameras within the confined space between both doors. Not exactly a good thing for any claustrophobics, as if the suit wasn't suffocating enough; he was starting to swear in there. Taking a breath, he waited as the doors slid open to reveal experiment #774, butt faced to him. Now? There was a protocol for this, they had been briefed about this multiple times, but right now he couldn't remember a single thing of what he was briefed on. Well, he could remember the general steps. [i]Check the subject's ability to respond to simple instruction and reaction to another sentient being[/i] "Adam." He said, surprised that his voice didn't waver, "Please stand up and face the wall." He instructed, taking this as a chance to test the other's sense of balance and locomotion skill whilst he could. And if the subject could walk, then that was a good sign that he was healthy and not a bedridden rejection. Again, physical health was second to mental sanity, he waited for the subject to respond and from there he would judge if he was fit to continue the experiment. ----- He wasn't sure why it wasn't ending. He should be waking up at the bottom of the ocean now or in the morose hallowed darkness of the great dungeon. Closing his eyes, he found some darkness, but it felt completely unreal. Far too light and underwhelming. His heart quickened, unable to find even the vestiges of the real darkness. Had even that, left him alone?