"I already asked some questions, ya didn't bloody answer!" Bruce grew frustrated at the official-sounding doctor guy. Adam simply nodded along, understanding completely what he was now in for. He was ready to comply, but seeing that Bruce is as unpredictable as he is, he wouldn't know if he'd survive testing. Perhaps his 'clinically insane' traits would not come back, although it had been five minutes and he had already started to go crazy with this hulking behemoth attached to his back. "I understand, doctor." said Adam, weakly. He then stuck out his arm, wrist-side up for the doctor to take a blood sample from.

"Ya know it's quite rude to ignore someone when they're askin' a question, and I have many questions." Bruce then proceeded to stick out his arm right next to Adam's, in the exact same fashion. For some reason, Bruce was also willing to comply. "Ya' might need two samples, mate."

Florence slowly nodded, trying not to make his head worse. He didn't look as tense as he had been a moment before and didn't have to squint. With the lights off, Schwarzlicht's face was visible, the lighting's glare on his visor gone. Being able to see their face made him more open to the idea of talking to them.

He didn't move as the doctor moved closer to him, weary eyes watching every aspect of the man. The noise the suit made was so foreign to the scurrying footsteps of nurses he was used to, and he knew it would take awhile to get used to it. Security measures, huh? He had seen his fair share of weird security measures before, but this was new. What was going on in this hospital that required full protection? He decided to not question it further, simply agreeing with the doctor. As long as it kept people safe there really wasn't a reason to argue about it.

Florence noticed that he wasn't nearly as anxious about the man as he usually was when meeting new people, especially when they got this close. While it was a strange feeling, it was a light feeling, a nice feeling; it almost came close to making up for his migraine.

It took a moment for Florence to catch up and understand that the man wanted him to get up and took the help. The rubber of the hazmat suit was a texture that almost disgusted him.

He couldn't go far because of the IV drip in his arm, and he wasn't about to rip it out. He knew that was a bad idea from past experiences. He took his attention off of it and back to Jace, "Yes." He had never had a nickname before, but he didn't mind Flo.

Florence hesitated for a moment, slouching figure shifting uncomfortably. "...Did I...?" He hesitated again, although he was surprised with himself for managing to get that much out. Making the representation of a gun with his free hand motioning to his head.

Feeling relieved that the subject had allowed her to tend to his wound, Emma got to work, cleaning up the blood on his wrist. She couldn't do much however, as he snapped his arm back, letting out a hiss. "It's okay, it'll just sting a little. It won't-" she started but didn't get to finish her sentence as he grabbed her suit, rambling about unfamiliar things as he started to panic. Oh no, this isn't good...

Emma warily got to her feet and backed away to her bag, eyeing him for any sudden movements. There was a sedative in her bag. If things got too out of hand...

"You're at a facility receiving treatment. There is no cause for alarm. You will not be harmed," she told him with a steady voice as she picked up her bag and held it behind her, blindly digging through her supplies for a syringe. "If you would please sit down on the bed, and listen to my instructions, you'll be allowed to go outside your room. Perhaps you'll meet your...friends...there," she added calmly. This was not at all what she had been expecting when she stepped into the room. She had hoped her subject would be less...animated. She vaguely wondered how her colleagues were doing. Obviously a lot better than her. She hoped her poor performance wouldn't put a mark on her record.

He let out a long drawn sigh at the subject's ear piercing protests, pretending to check his chart one more time, eyes rolling over his history again as he spoke, looking professional, "We can't tell you what we don't know either, I'll have to run some further tests on you to determine exactly what we're dealing with here, it'll be even longer if data proves inconclusive. If anything comes back and if I can dumb it down enough, I'll try my best to give you some answers." That was a blatant lie on his part, but he tried to say it cooly. He didn't owe the boy anything and by right, they were nothing more than guinea pigs in a way and you didn't tell a guinea pig you were about to electrocute it for the sake of science, not that he was going to electrocute the boy...as of yet.

Grateful that both halve of him seemed compliant, he took the boy's arm first, cleaning the skin with a numbing agent, before he prepped the needle, "This may sting a little." He warned before drawing a blood sample. Removing the needle and plunger, the syringe capped nicely into a vial. Now was the creature. He doubted they had very much difference in blood composition, he wasn't even sure if the creature had blood, seeming almost ethereal in the beginning. Still eyeing those claws, he reached for the creature's arm.

"Do you think you'll need aid to walk?" He asked, taking another syringe from his side pack.

---

Pressing himself against the wall, to make the room feel less constricted, he eyed the creature. His ears pricking at her muffled words, "Friends? Outside?" He repeated slowly, blinking as he slowly processed the words individually. Then he turned and stared at the bed for a good minute before he shuffled towards it, hesitant as he sat down, pulling his legs up to his chest. He rocked back and forth a little, chewing his lip before he spoke up again, "How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you're real?" He questioned, before instructing rather assertively, "Take off your helmet. I won't hurt you, you can stop backing away as well, take it off so I can see better."

He continued on, not letting another word stop him, "What sort of treatment is this? What have you done to me? To my friends?" Pausing to chew his lip,he scratched at his wrist idly, pressing the still bleeding wound against the white loose shirt he wore, leaving a red stain on it. Jittery, he continued to rock and twiddle his thumbs, fiddle with his fingers, brush his hair back; unable to remain still for even a second. Far too agitated.

A simultaneous answer of yes/no rang within the room. They then both looked at each other, Adam in irritated frustration, and Bruce in his snarky grin. "Come on mate, I'm just lookin' out for ya'. Yer little weedy little baby legs clearly can't carry both of us." Adam clutched the covers of the bed in anger. By now, he had felt like his strength was slowly getting back to him. In a more forceful tone than before, Adam snapped at Bruce. "Can you please just shut the fuck up for one minute?!"

Bruce's expression became that of slight surprise and confusion. He then put his hands up in mock surrender and said, "Alright, mate. 'Ave it your way. I was just tryin' to be friendly..." On the word 'friendly' his claw went down to pinch Adam's lower spine as hard as possible. He bit his lower lip as he did so (if you can call it a lip), and Adam began to holler in pain. He jerked as the nerves got to him, flinging himself onto the floor. Bruce's grip did not let up, as the sharp claws dug deeper into his skin, scraping against the bone. Adam kicked and flailed around on the floor, trying very hard to get Bruce off of him, which he would have known, if the intense amount of pain did not make him lose sight of what was rational. Bruce's left hand twirled around in the air, rodeo style, like he was riding a bucking bull, while the right continued to pinch even harder.

Snap.

Bruce had crushed Adam's spine right in front of Dr. De Note. Adam's legs immediately stopped moving, and he began screaming even harder than he just was. As his screams quickly reduced to sobbing, Bruce merely said, crossing his arms, "I think he'll need help walkin' now."

For a moment, the subject lay unresponsive, head lolled forward. Not so much as a twitch in reply. Iesha's smile melted away and her heart stuttered a little. If this subject had also sustained damage--

"I'm fine."

The two words fell from his mouth, sharp and meaningless. But relief flooded through Iesha's veins anyway, as sweet and intoxicating as champagne. If nothing else the subject could register, understand and respond to speech. And considering everything they'd done to him, that was quite an impressive success. Her mind flickered briefly to those still bodies, moved only by their useless breaths. Brain-dead. Terminated. A shudder shook her before she could suppress the image, jarring her professional facade with a short grimace.

"The light hurt my eyes...so I got a headache, but it's not bad. I feel pretty tired, I guess, and I don't have a clue in hell about where I am, but all things considered..." he meandered, trying, she realized, to make conversation. "Yeah, I'm good."

Nodding, she added desire--social; light-ind. h.a. to her notes. She thought little of the headache, but wasn't about to let even the smallest detail escape her. Iesha slipped the pen primly beneath the clip before organizing another smile. This one came more easily, fueled as it was by a heady cocktail of triumph and relief.

"I'm glad to hear it. I am Dr. Watson." She extended a thickly-gloved hand: a simple test of coordination to start with, in the form of nothing more arduous than a handshake. After that, they could work their way up through the various functions, test his muscles, his reflexes--Iesha stopped herself. One thing at a time. Breathe. Smile. Focus on the subject. Act Natural. "Nice to meet you, Domenico."

As the subject moved towards the bed, Emma visibly relaxed and stop rummaging through her bag. She noted his habits as he sat down, filing them away in the back of her mind to write down later. She had no worries about forgetting the details because she knew it'd be rather hard to forget such an intriguing encounter.

She could only blink back at him through the clear screen as he demanded her to take off her helmet. That would be way out of protocol, she thought, glancing up at the camera monitoring everything. Sure, he appeared to have calmed down now, but even if he didn't harm her, she was sure that her superiors wouldn't like it if she disobeyed the clear set of instructions she had been given prior to her investigation.

If I give in to his demands, I'll be seen as being weak and unfit for the job, Emma mused, observing the subject's movements. She had seen similar habits in addicts, going through withdrawal. But what had he been addicted to?

"I assure you, I am quite real," she said, moving slowly towards him. "My name is Dr. Emma Winters, and I promise I'll take off the helmet once I'm sure that you're doing alright."

Gingerly taking his arm, she started wrapping a bandage around his wound, trying to distract him with her words. "You were...sick...but you're better now," she said. "You're part of a special project, where you're important for research. You're contributing to a breakthrough in science," she rambled, looking down at him. "You're very special, Relin."

---

Clipboard in hand, Emma quickly went through the procedures required to go to her next subject: Experiment #222, Tam Caleb. She was a little late in getting to them, but it was better she was late than not appear at all. The facility was short on staff and needed anyone they could get.

Entering the brightly lit room, the red-head was relieved to find that this time the subject was lying in their cot, IV drip still attached to their arm. Clearing her throat, Emma pulled out the necessary apparatus required to perform tests on them. "Tam Caleb? My name is Dr. Emma Winters. How are you feeling?" she asked briskly.

He glanced up at the two bickering as he drew blood from Bruce. It didn't seem any different from regular iron based blood; he had heard some specimens had died from a sudden introduction of alien Hemocyanin; copper-based blood. Still, it would be 'fun' to analyze it in the lab. He had thankfully withdrawn the needle when Adam's sudden outburst startled them both. He eyed Bruce as he slowly clipped the vial back into his belt, making sure it was secure, "I'll have a walker brought up for you." He began when Adam started to scream. Needle discarded carelessly onto the floor, he rushed to pry the man off of...well, himself. The clunky suit tripping him up as he tried to grab Bruce. The boy's flailing, albeit understandable, really didn't help him.

A claw caught the side of his suit, tearing through the reinforced plastic like it was wet paper. Panic flooded through him as he felt air rush into the pressurized suit. Jerking backwards, his back hitting the wall as he watched the boy jerk and scream, a sickening crack making him wince. It was a moment before his senses crashed into him all at once and he flung himself forward to the boy's side, injecting a sedative that would hopefully ease the pain or prevent the boy from hurting himself further.

"I need a medical team stat! Prepare an operating table!" He shouted, frustrated with how little he could do but wait for help. How would it look like on a record to have his first assigned patient die on his watch, though at the moment, he was just worried about keeping the boy alive and..."Get a cuff." He muttered, much quieter. Those claws needed to be taken care off.

---

His eyes darted to her face, fixedly staring at her as she took care of his arm, mumbling, "I'm fine, you can take it off." However, he didn't expect her to, people rarely listened, even rarer did they comply, "You're a liar. I can't trust you. Either that or you're naive. I can't believe you."

Pulling his arm away once it was bandaged, he continued to rock, though his eyes remained on her, "I don't feel better. I don't feel important kept in this room. You say I'm a part of and I'm contributing, but I don't have a say nor do I want to give anything. You're lying and you're bad at it. I'm not special, neither are you." He mumbled on, then turned his gaze back to the floor, "Can I go see my friends now?" He asked softly, twiddling his thumbs, then more quietly, "Um...I need to use the bathroom too..."

Adams screams died down as the doctor injected him. "Mate, watcha doin' with that? I though ya' already took some blo-" His speech slowed down as he slumped closer to the floor, passing out mid-word on top of Adam's head, his 'tail' (or doodle) twitching slightly, like a snake. What the doctor may have been able to notice behind the bloody wound was that it began to close up. He wouldn't have seen it, but the section of spine the wraith destroyed was also repairing itself.

The entire time, right up to being sedated, Adam kept wondering, what have I done to deserve this?

Dom gave a tiny smile, and hissed a little as his bottom lip cracked, and a small drop of blood went into his mouth. He figured he must be dehydrated, or at least, he hasn't drunk any water in a while, because his lips felt so dry.
'Domenico...' He said, softly. 'Lady, it's Dom.' Chuckling a little at the memory, he said, 'Only my nonn- my grandmother calls me Domenico. Die hard Italian, she is. Or was. I haven't heard from them in while...my whole family...'
Dom realised that he was about to say more, about to explain to this stranger, this staff lady paid to run tests on him, the woman he had never even laid eyes on (they were still shut) about the pain he had felt that his family had abandoned him. They visited him in prison, but as soon as he was transferred to the asylum- no more.

But no, that wasn't correct. He hadn't felt any pain, that was the point. He hadn't cared. Dom knew they hadn't visited him, but back then he hadn't given a shit, to be honest. Why did he now? That scared him a little bit. Reflecting back on his past, even though he was perfectly capable of feeling emotions, like anger- especially anger, he thought- they were all egocentric emotions: anger that he had been treated unfairly, happiness that he had been given a day outside the prison, worry that he wouldn't get his sentence lengthened because of good behaviour, that kind of thing. It had been a long time since that he had felt anything for anything else.
I wonder what they're doing right now. I wonder if they still talk about me...nah, they probably have forgotten. Course they have.

Of course, none of this was voiced out loud. Dom may be getting an unexplained return of his empathy, but he wasn't an idiot. He didn't know this lady, and he certainly didn't want her to know every in and out of his personality before he had even taken a good look at her.

Jace examined Flo curiously as he came closer. Yep, he looked calmer. He really hoped that he would be able to connect with Flo, and so far (if he wasn’t too far off) he was doing a good job.

Treat them like they would live, not like they would die, Jace.

Those words. Those soft, caring words. He had forgotten how to feel, but that advice made more sense than most things did. Then he noticed that Flo was trying to stand up in reaction to his outstretched hands. He waved them nervously.

“No, no. I just want to examine you. You look a bit pale.”

Placing his hand on Flo’s forehead, he felt for heat, for vibrations, anything that could give a clue. It did seem like a headache, an awfully bad one. But what was to be expected from an inhuman experiment like that?

They’re just test subjects. Just test subjects. Nothing of value.

He looked so weak and stressed.

Just Test Subjects.

“We’ll call you Flo then.”

Test.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Flo.”

Subjects.

Then he glimpsed the gun motion that Flo made. Personally, he was proud that Flo could manage to say so much without the difficulty of speaking backwards, like a few minutes ago.

Flo..er..Experiment #324 showing promising improvement.

Now what was he trying to signal? Oh! Suicide? Jace let out a low, nervous laugh.
“Nope. You’re still alive and well. You’ve just been… refined.”

[i]And possibly in a state worse than death, Pal.

But I guess we’ll be able to see about that later.

A pressing theory was that Flo’s headaches and stress came from that little…refinement. He really wanted to try it out. But he couldn’t do that too soon. Anyways, he had to get him fit for Common Room.

“Can you describe the pain you feel?”

Once again, Florence was on edge. Refined? He didn't lke the sound of that. You refined oil, you refined metal; people weren't things to refine. While couldn't bring the words to ask the doctor about it, his look of doubt and worry said more than he could.

Could he describe it? That was a good question. It felt like everything at once was going off. Some things were more intense than others; the feeling of his mind exploding was more prominent than the burning. Florence wanted to say everything but he couldn't form the words right, and instead kept stuttering over the ending of it.

Florence buried his face in his hands, trying to calm down and clear his mind up. Now he had to get creative. How could he describe this? He took a moment to think on it, before picking himself back up and looking at Jace.

He took his hands and made a circle motion with them, paused, balled his hands together and brought them outward away from each other, spreading his palms as he did so. He looked frustrated as he couldn't describe everything he was feeling, but was hoping he got something across.

"It's..healed?"
"According to the X-rays, it would look like it was never broken. It's interesting, we're going to need more time to process the blood sample. In the mean while, physically, he's completely healthy though we'll have to provide a walker aid for him..eh..them. I've send consideration for separating them, after we've studied their biology. We're somewhat restricted, trying to keep them alive, but they are one of a kind."

Luka sighed, walking across the observation deck, below them, Experiment #774 lay strapped to the operating table, hooked up to monitors and a drip administering a steady stream of morphine into his bloodstream. Ironically enough, no operation was going to take place. Perhaps that was what frustrated him most; all the fuss and panic he had made and was put through, only to be told it was unneeded. Really, he should be glad that his assigned subject hadn't died on his first day, his hands still felt clammy and his heart was still coming down from the race track. Checking his watch, he tried to find some comfort in his frustration that they were running behind time.

It honestly felt like déjà vu as he entered the room to greet the awaking boy. Probably even more groggy from the fresh fading anesthetic. He hoped the boy hadn't suffered some form of brain damage along the way, figuratively off course since the scans showed full working brain functions, forgetting about what had transpired. Luka hated to repeat himself.

It felt easier this time, stepping into the less claustrophobic room, a watchful eye behind the mirrored glass, surrounded by familiar whir of the machines. Already, he grip was less tense on the tablet, his breathing easier. What comforted him the most were the dark metal of the cuffs that bound the 'tumorous entities a.k.a Bruce,'s crimson cutting shears. They'd tested it beforehand, cutting one claw away. He tried to push the data out of his head, the first test had started with reinforced polymer, the last had ended up with shreds of a steel based compound; he made a note to personally fork out cash from his own salary to reinforce the current cellulose spun fibers laced with steel.

Standing by the patient's bedside, he tapped his fingers against the tablet, waiting for him to rouse, "If you're done with your little nap." He begun sarcastically, feeling a little spite for the adrenaline rush he had to endure, "We're behind on schedule, unfortunately, because of your little act, we're considering putting you in solitary confinement. However, due to your extraordinary situation, we're willing to show mercy and allow you to interact with the other patients-Please don't pull out the IV, nor any of the wires." He tried for professionalism. What would the others think if they found out about this indiscretion, "Now, ready to come quietly? We have lunch prepared."

"Yeh... Really sorry 'bout that mate, Adam here was bein' a bit of an arsehole. " The wraith seemed more sedated now, and it wasn't because of the meds. As he attempted to lightly whack Adam over the head, he realised his 'hands' were now in cuffs. Perfectly understandable. Didn't stop him from getting a hit in, but Adam was just relieved that Bruce wouldn't be able to used his claws. "Mate, ya' mentioned lunch?! I'm bloody starvin', when do we eat?!

For once, Adam actually agreed with Bruce. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a proper meal, rather than weird medical shit that gave him nutrition through various tubes. "Yeah, I'm also pretty hungry."

It seemed that no matter what Emma said, Relin would not be convinced. He's definitely smarter than he looks... She tensed at his words, keeping her composure as she concentrated on bandaging him and chose not to comment on it. He would see the truth for himself soon enough. Emma could only hope that he would be able to handle it.

"Alright," she nodded, standing up and walking towards the metal doors. She signaled at the camera and took off her helmet as she waited for the doors to open. It's alright now, I think. He's calmed and there's no hazardous chemicals... Well, it's too late anyway. Running a hand through her curls, she slid her green eyes towards the patient just as the doors noiselessly slid apart.

"Ready to go?"

Jace noticed Flo’s distressed look as he pronounced the word ‘refined’. His face contorted into that of worry. “Oh dear, I...” Jace began, unsure of how to explain.

Shit… what if that hurt his feelings

“In this new age, refining humans is kinda a way of letting the human race progress. It doesn’t really have a disadvantage, now.”

Oho Jace. Liar Liar Pants on Fire…

Amusedly watching Flo’s confused and flustered face as he tries to describe his headache, Jace leans in towards him, placing a warm hand on his forehead.
He chuckled.

“That sounds like one of those explosions you see in Spongebob,” he remarked, a creepy glint in his eye that disappeared in seconds.

“But I’d associate that with extreme pain and throbbing, something we can Migraines, Flo. Can you repeat that after me? Mi-Grai-Nes”

dark eyes were curiously scouring Flo’s complexion by now, analyzing his test subject. The most reckless idea came to mind. Should I?

Telekinesis is cool, afterall.

Florence was really not liking this whole 'refinement' thing. He noticed Jace's hesitation at explaining, which didn't make his next point too convincing. He was avoiding actually explaining what they refined, and it was leaving him slightly frustrated. The way they said it, it sounded surreal. He was starting to feel a disconnect from this whole situation, and if it wasn't for his migraine, would think it was just a dream.

The doctor's answer to his problem only helped to build his frustration more. Yes, it was a migraine. He knew that. He knew what a migraine was called; it wasn't a foreign concept to him. It was awful that he had to send all that time struggling to communicate to get to that simple answer.

"Mi-Grai-Nes." The word came out awkward, but he found out that it was easy for him to parrot people if he didn't think about what he was saying.

Florence looked at the doctor while they studied him, waiting for something to happen. His headache was getting slowly worse again as time went on, and he was becoming more ornery because of it.

A proud smile rushed over Jace’s lips as he heard Flo pronounce the word after seemingly much frustration. His hands reached out, gently massaging Flo above his ears on both sides, trying to soothe the pain.

“There’s a good boy, Flo! You’re pronunciation is as good as anyone’s. No need to be frustrated there, buddy,” his calm, collected voice came with a slightly satisfied undertone. “Now this next part doesn’t require talking, I’m going to try get your mind into focus. A mental game,” he continued, seeing his still underlying annoyance at the idea of his being refined.

An experiment on an experiment. You poor kid.

Jace shuffled slightly to the right, allowing Flo’s view to settle on a test tube laying on the table a few meters away. Then he knelt down in front of Flo, allowing him to look down on Jace.

Maybe that’ll make me seem less intimidating.

“By refined, Flo, I am referring to the fact that we gave you a certain ability no other human has, to see how well you would deal with it… kind of like a superpower, eh? It’s harmless, really.”

I am totally breaking the world record for lying this month.

“My guess is that your mind is a bit befuddled by all that’s going on inside, and that’s why we need a little jolt to bring it all back into place. Now I want you to focus on that test tube laying right there, Flo. Focus on it as much as you can, despite the migraine.”

Jace started walking towards the table. Flo’s limbs would be too numb to react to sudden motions right now. That leaves the only thing still awake and alert from the experimental processes… his mind.

“I want you to feel that test tube, engulf its existence, feel a connection...”

He picked up the test tube.

“And now…”

A grin of curiosity spread across his lips.

“Show me your reflexes.”

With that, he flung the test tube right towards Flo at high speed. This is his test. If all goes according to plan and studies, this should be breathtaking… and help his migraine a bit, too.

That he wouldn't have to talk was the first good news that Florence had received since he woke up.

Was that supposed to be a joke? Because he wasn't finding anything amusing about the situation. But Jace didn't look, or sound, like he was joking. Even if he wasn't kidding about the refinement, it didn't feel harmless. In fact, he was pretty sure if the migraine was related to this 'refinement', it was the exact opposite of harmless. But thinking into it just made it worse, so he abandoned the train of thought. Nonetheless, he was being asked to do something. It didn't make any sense to him, but he started doing as he was asked, concentrating on the tube and giving his best to block everything else out.

He was slow to respond to the object being thrown, his senses needing a moment to catch up with his distress. Within a foot of him, the test tube started cracking, suddenly taking a sharp turn left and shattering against the wall. It left Florence nearly frozen in shock.

Did...Did I do that?

He stared at the broken glass of the test tube for a solid minute before slowly turning his head back to look at the doctor. He was shaking ever so slightly, and realized something - He could calm himself down. He took a moment to do so, sitting up straighter and relaxing his muscles.

Then, something else hit him. It wasn't anywhere near gone, but his migraine was significantly better. It was nice to not feel as if he was going to vomit, and that he could see clearly.

He couldn't tell if this answered more questions than it raised, mostly because he was in disbelief over what just happened. There was no way he did that. There was no way that could have possibly happened. But maybe it really did, and maybe Jace wasn't lying when he said they refined him. It was still a disgusting word to him, but if this is what they were referring to...Maybe he would have to learn to deal with it.

He wanted to start asking questions again, but couldn't find where to start. He was back to giving him a hopelessly confused look, but at least this time he looked much better.

He gestured to the walking aid, "Lean your weight on that, be reminded that you will be removed if you misbehave around the other subjects. This will become routine for you, everyday, I will escort you from your room to the canteen, then to what you can call the recreation room for your exercises. We'll be testing your physicality and administering some physical therapy to help you recover from your long nap. We encourage you to interact with the other subjects, but any inappropriate behavior will result in a lockdown. I trust you both will behave." He said, pushing the four legged walker towards the subject.

There was practically a whole separate wing dedicated to the needs of the subjects. It was almost like a luxury dormitory to be honest or perhaps like a morgue with all the still slumbering patients. The smell of anesthetic, the long hallways that they treaded down. The suit squeaking with each step much to his annoyance, as he slowly waited for Adam to follow.

The canteen was none too different from a prison cafeteria. The food was already pre-made, leaving little to choice. The tables and chairs were bolted down to the ground and the cutlery consisted of plastic spoons that matched the plastic covered trays of food stacked along the table. It was really a militarized dining room without any of the atmosphere. Luca gestured to a tray, "You have 30 minutes to eat." He said, already inching his way back to the door, that too was automated via a key card. So far, he was the first to use it apparently. Were the others having trouble with their patients? He felt bad that it made a smirk tug at his lips.

---

He stared at her. Silent when she complied and removed her helmet, no more relaxed than he was previously. Noiselessly, he slid off the bed and shuffled towards her, head bowed and hunched over. Peeking past his lashes, he caught her gaze briefly, then turned to look at the empty corner she had signaled at. Perhaps he wasn't the only one who was mad here.

"Where are we going now?" He asked, standing behind her. Experimentally, he swiped his hand up as if he was to hit her, then paused.

---

Its not unlike the 1987 experiments, but the project was shut down before any research could be conducted on it. Similar anomalies have occurred in previous projects, do you remember, project RS-19? It was the closest we ever got...before the project was terminated, off course."

"Isolate the entity, we don't want a repeat incident...and...study it. See if you can replicate it. It may be of use."