"It must be the monitors, or the biofluid—they get quite noisy at times," replied Lyre. Though her voice remained stoic, the glare she flashed towards Tyssa was anything but. Her blue eyes glinted with a threat: keep your mouth shut or you'll regret being alive.
It was true. It was in both their best interests that Tyssa grew to its full potential and that Lyre had complete control over its development.
"Would you mind if I called back later?" asked Lyre to the director. "I'm doing urgent evaluations at the moment." She waited a few seconds before hanging up. If the director had anything more to tell Lyre, she would have already disconnected from the call.
Immediately, the young scientist spun towards the hybrid specimen. "Listen to me." She drew a slow breath. "You were predicted to emerge next month. Consequently, nobody knows of your existence, and you are weaker than you were meant to become. Thus, I am taking it upon myself to finalize your first-stage development before you are transferred to my higher-ups.
"You will stay contained in this testing area, unless you hope for them to discover you beforehand," directed Lyre, pointing a finger down at the floor, "which will inevitably lead to your slow destruction through training you are not yet prepared for. Do you understand?"
