Dr. Chase pushed back from his desk and rubbed his eyes. "Alright— that's all for testing today." He stacked the day's printouts, slid them into a folder, and shepherded his belongings together, his lab coat dragging across the floor behind him.Four months since the child had fallen out of the sky. They'd expected more—an army, a threat, a miracle—but instead the child had grown at an impossible rate, learning with animal instincts and an intelligence that crawled ahead of their comprehension. It had only become stranger. Chase passed along a corridor and found Lt. Mike leaning against a bulkhead, arms folded like a wall. Mike's jaw worked as he spat the words out. "So you finally done experimenting on that…thing?" Chase stopped. "That's not—" He flinched at the word. "He's not a thing. He's…special." Mike snorted.Doc….The first time I saw him crawl out of that pod he had no features. No language. No—" He waved a hand, dismissive. "Now look at him. Watchful. Quiet. I don't like quiet."And you'd prefer the military solution every time," Chase said, voice going tight. "Shoot first, ask questions later. That's been your playbook." Lt. Mike's expression turned thin and hard. "Maybe I'll have to show him." The words came like a threat and a promise both. He offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "He'll see."Chase didn't answer. He shouldered his bag, his coat sweeping to the side, and walked off. The sunset was soft over the compound—grass brushing the breeze, the air tasting almost peaceful. It was the kind of evening that made ordinary dangers look harmless. In the research wing, Mira sat behind a cluttered desk, the glow of her monitor painting her face in pale blue. She turned a page of Dr. Chase's notes with fingers that trembled a little."Fascinating," she breathed. Her eyes darted down columns of test results and timestamps. "If we push the next battery of tests, we could learn more—maybe find out what he is."
Josh, hunched at the adjacent console, looked up and laughed, a short, nervous sound. "And how do you propose we speed this up, Mira? Telepathy?"Mira's smile was half-mischief, half-possibility. "No. I communicate with him."Josh blinked. "Are you crazy? You know the protocols—any attempt to interface with an unknown cognitive pattern is a violation. We could get shut down. We could get jailed."Only if anyone finds out." Mira tapped the corner of the file with a conspiratorial grin. "One chance. One careful session. If I'm right, we'll learn more in an hour than we have in four months."Josh turned back to his console, hands hovering over the keyboard. He was the cautious one—protocol-first—yet Mira's excitement was infectious. He rubbed his temple and muttered, "You're insane."And brilliant," she shot back. Then quieter, almost to herself: "What choice do we have?"