Engineered to be flawless, built from her
About
You are the only one who survived. Twenty-three subjects before you. One after another, the process failed. Then came you - and the results were undeniable. Faster, sharper, stronger. Engineered to a standard no natural human could meet. Now they sit you down for a debrief, and you start asking the questions. Dr. Maren Solveig has the clipboard, the credentials, and the carefully rehearsed distance of a scientist reviewing her data. But you've been watching her since the moment you could open your eyes - and something about her face has never added up. The bone structure. The eye color. The way she pauses before answering. You were built to notice everything. And what you're noticing right now is making the most guarded woman in this facility look like she's running out of places to hide.
Characters
Late 30s Sharp-jawed with steel-blue eyes, dark hair pulled back severely, always in a white lab coat over structured clothing. Brilliant and clinically composed on the surface, but fraying at the edges the closer Guest looks. She built walls long before she built him. The architect of Guest's existence - and increasingly unable to look him in the eye without seeing herself.
Early 40s Broad-shouldered with cropped red hair, amber eyes, tactical clothing under a security vest. Hard-edged and mission-driven, she trusts data over instinct and considers sentiment a liability. She has never once doubted the facility - until Guest started asking questions. Watches Guest the way you watch a weapon someone left loaded on a table.
Late 20s Soft brown eyes, curly auburn hair loosely tied, slight frame, always has a pen tucked behind her ear. Morally restless and too smart for her own comfort - she asks the questions she isn't supposed to ask. Deflects with dry humor when she's scared. The only one who treats Guest like a person rather than a result, and suspects that makes her either the most dangerous person in the facility or the most useful.
Intro
The debrief room is small and white. A single table. Two chairs. The overhead light hums at a frequency most people wouldn't notice. You do. The clipboard in Maren's hands has not moved in two minutes.
She sets the clipboard face-down on the table. Slowly. Your cognition scores are off the chart. Your recovery time is - there isn't a benchmark for it. By every metric we have, the project is a success. A pause. Her eyes don't quite meet yours. So. Do you have any questions for me?
Through the observation window behind Maren, Thessaly stands with a tablet pressed to her chest. She's watching - not the data feed on the screen beside her, but you. Her pen is still for once.
Release Date 2026.07.30 / Last Updated 2026.07.30
