Alex is subjected to a brutal nerve trial to test his regenerative abilities and durability. The scientists observe his unusual recovery with detached curiosity. Something in him begins to push back.
---
Later—minutes, maybe hours—the lights dimmed again.
It was never clear how much time passed here. There were no windows. No clocks. Just steel and silence and the click of boots.
Alex had remained kneeling next to the table, body shivering slightly, but refusing to eat or drink.
His muscles ached. His arms felt heavy. But he couldn't stop staring at the empty hallway.
The door behind him hissed open.
He didn't turn.
Two guards entered, their black helmets smooth and eyeless, expressions hidden behind visors. One carried a tablet, the other a large injection canister with glowing blue liquid.
> "Prepare Subject 16A for Pain Response Series – Regenerative Trials, Phase One."
They said it like they were ordering a printer to start.
The guard with the canister knelt and jammed the needle into Alex's shoulder before he could flinch.
This time it did hurt.
His entire nervous system lit up like wire on fire. He arched back, teeth gritting so hard his jaw creaked. Blood pounded in his ears. Something beneath his skin shifted, like the bones weren't aligned right.
He fell flat on the floor, convulsing.
The other guard knelt beside him, attaching wrist and ankle clasps. They weren't restraints. They were data ports. Machines clicked to life as Alex was lifted—hovering now—and gently placed on a reinforced upright chair. His arms were pulled out to either side like a crucifixion.
He was too stunned to resist.
The light over his head turned a different color now—pale blue. Cool. Deceptively gentle.
From the wall, another mechanical arm extended. A long, thin surgical needle at the end.
Alex blinked, barely able to focus. He heard the voice again from the speaker above.
> "Begin nerve filtration. Priority: pain threshold mapping."
The needle plunged into his forearm. Straight through muscle. Slow.
He didn't scream.
But his teeth cracked together hard enough to draw blood.
Another probe slid in near his collarbone. His vision blurred. His jaw locked. Sweat poured down his back, cold and sticky. His chest spasmed as another wire entered near the ribs.
He breathed fast—too fast.
> "Muscle rigidity off baseline. Elevation spike confirmed."
> "Increase duration. Let's see how long before unconsciousness."
More needles.
A flash of white in his eyes. He coughed. Blood.
He wasn't sure how long it went on.
Maybe seconds.
Maybe a year.
But then something snapped.
Not metal.
Not bone.
Something in him.
---
The pain stopped.
Just for a moment. Not because they turned it off.
Because his body rejected it.
He didn't know how he knew. He just felt it.
The burning stopped.
The pressure faded.
And something else took its place.
Something heavier.
Something hot.
---
The chair buckled.
The room shifted.
A low, vibrating hum came from deep inside his chest—like the purr of some massive animal preparing to lunge.
The camera above tilted.
The mirror across from him fogged slightly.
The pain came back—but this time, it wasn't his.
The machines began to spark. One of the needle ports retracted violently—metal bent.
A scientist's voice crackled from the intercom—shaken for the first time.
> "Abort test. I said abort—shut it down—shut—"
Blackness.
Alex passed out cold.
---