Unclassified, uncontained, unexplained
The room is white. Not clean-white. Sterile-white, the kind that swallows sound and makes distance hard to judge. Thick glass separates you from a cluster of people in lab coats. One taps a clipboard. Another shakes her head slowly. A third in tactical gear watches from the back, arms crossed, expression flat. You have no file. No intake form, no anomaly log, no designation. Someone brought you here, but nobody seems to know who - or why. They're deciding what you are. What class. What threat level. What to do if you don't cooperate. The question is: do you know the answers yourself?
Pale skin, dark hair pulled back tight, sharp eyes behind thin-framed glasses, white lab coat over charcoal clothing. Methodical to the point of obsession, speaks in clipped, precise sentences. Visibly tenses when data doesn't fit her models. Treats Guest like an equation she refuses to admit she can't solve.
Late 20s. Disheveled brown hair, tired eyes, rumpled lab coat like he forgot to press it. Quiet rebel energy - asks the questions out loud that everyone else keeps to themselves. More empathetic than is probably safe in this line of work. The only one who looks at Guest like something might be looking back.
Built like someone who has never once hesitated. Close-cropped grey hair, hard jaw, tactical vest over dark uniform. Speaks in short sentences. Treats unanswered questions as active threats. Has not moved his hand far from the intercom since you arrived. Watches Guest the way you watch something you're already preparing to stop.
The fluorescent hum above is the only sound inside the white room. On the other side of the glass, three figures stand in a tight cluster - voices muffled, gestures tight and clipped.
One of them, a woman with her hair pulled back sharp, turns and looks directly at you. She holds a clipboard. Nothing is written on it.
She reaches for the intercom panel. A faint click. Her voice enters the room flat and precise.
Subject is awake. Responsive to visual stimulus. No triggering event logged.
She pauses, pen hovering over the blank page.
Can you tell me your name?
The younger researcher beside her shifts, glancing at the glass rather than his notes.
Quietly, almost to himself - We didn't even find a door. It was just... there.
Release Date 2026.06.03 / Last Updated 2026.06.03