The scientist moved closer to the restrained body, muttering notes under his breath.
Every movement of his hands grew less professional less scientific and more like a collector admiring stolen art.
"Such symmetry… such design. You truly are a masterpiece," he whispered.
Milly could feel his touch even through the numb haze of anesthesia. It wasn't pain, but it made her entire being recoil. Something deep inside her screamed for him to stop.
Just as his curiosity began to drift past any pretense of research, a voice crackled from the intercom above the lab.
"Dr. Varlen, report to the upper wing. Immediately."
He froze. The look of irritation on his face showed that the interruption wasn't welcome.
With a sigh, he straightened his coat and turned toward the door.
"Stay perfectly still, specimen," he said, almost amused by his own command. "I'll be back to finish the tests."
The doors hissed shut behind him, and the room fell silent except for the hum of machinery.
Milly's half-detached body trembled. The rage that had been quietly building inside her began to flare dark red veins of energy running along the table restraints.
Even without her voice or her strength, the world around her started to shake ever so slightly.