The lab continue to hummed with the same cold, mechanical rhythm. Screens flickering, data streams flowed in neon green, and the air reeked faintly of chemicals and burnt circuits. Inside the capsule, Lena is still laying motionless—her pale skin almost glowing beneath the glass, wires running from her temples, chest, and spine into the machine that had consumed her.
The lead scientist wiped sweat from his brow, his gloved hands trembling slightly. He turned to Gabriel, who stood watching with predatory patience, a cigarette burning low between his fingers.
“It is done,” the scientist said. His voice was tight with awe and fear. “Her neural pathways have been rewritten. Memory clusters have been erased, overwritten with combat programming. She is no longer… herself.”
Gabriel’s eyes glea
