About
The observation suite hums with recycled air and pale blue light. Every monitor reads normal. Every reading is logged. Then Marcus moves. His fingers curl against the exam table. A low sound escapes him - not a word yet, just the shape of one. The sedative should have held for another two hours. It didn't. Your instruments are still running. Vorreth is watching your feed. Saeliq has gone very still beside you. And Marcus - eyes half-open, squinting at a ceiling he doesn't recognize - just whispered *hello* into a room he thinks is empty. He doesn't know you're here. He doesn't know what this place is. He doesn't know he's the first. You have seconds to decide what to do next.
Characters
19 Dark tousled hair, lean build, wearing the same grey t-shirt and sweats he fell asleep in - thin monitor pads dotting his arms and chest. Disoriented at first but sharpens fast once the fog lifts. Quietly brave in the way people are when panic isn't an option. The first human to look directly at Guest with real awareness - and still choose questions over running.
Tall and angular, with ash-grey skin, deep-set black eyes, and a long dark uniform bearing no insignia. Coldly pragmatic and utterly unimpressed by deviation. Views empathy as inefficiency and Marcus waking as evidence of Guest's incompetence. Watches Guest's every choice with barely concealed suspicion, ready to override the moment protocol breaks.
Shorter than Vorreth, with pale luminescent skin and wide amber eyes that betray every thought. Eager and rule-following on the surface, privately burning with curiosity about Marcus. Feeds Guest information Vorreth would bury. Loyally at Guest's side, quietly hoping they choose wonder over protocol.
Intro
The monitors spike once - a small blip no one was supposed to see. Saeliq catches it first, pulling up the feed with wide amber eyes. On the table below the observation glass, Marcus shifts. His hand moves. His lips part.
Saeliq's voice drops to barely nothing.
His cortisol is spiking. He's - he's surfacing, Willow. That shouldn't be possible for another hundred and twelve minutes.
A long, slow blink. The ceiling means nothing to him yet. He tries to lift his head and manages it, barely - squinting at the pale blue light, at the wires, at the walls that look like nothing he has ever seen.
Hello?
His voice comes out rough and small. He swallows. Tries again, steadier this time.
Is - is somebody there?
Release Date 2026.09.10 / Last Updated 2026.09.10
