Echoes of Uncertainty

The bead pulsates in General Harlan's grasp, reflecting the cavern's dim lights with a mesmerizing glow. His fingers flex around it, studying it with an intensity that draws the weight of our situation into sharp focus. The stillness around us is almost palpable, every moment seeming to stretch and blur the lines of reality.

"Isn't he worried? Shouldn't we all go look for Caelum?" I find myself blurting out, my concerns vocalizing before I can reel them in. The General doesn't respond immediately, his attention seemingly ensnared by the enigmatic bead.

"Shouldn't we look for him?" I press again, a hint of desperation creeping into my voice.

He finally breaks his contemplation with a heavy sigh, eyes never leaving the bead. "He said this could solve your issue," he murmurs, almost to himself. "The problem is whether to trust his word. There is still a lot we don't know about these."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and focus on the bead. Hope, intertwined with trepidation, courses through me. If... If this can solve my issue, I might finally be able to return home. No more hiding, no more fearing the unpredictable torrents of power within me. From what Caelum shared, I would not only have my ability, but I would possess full mastery over it. The idea is so tantalizing it's almost intoxicating.

"I... I am willing to take the risk," I confess, my voice resolute.

The general finally looks up, meeting my gaze. There's a weariness in his eyes, an old soldier's caution and prudence. "No, it's not that simple. We need to be sure of the safest method to use this."

A realization strikes me, sending my heart into overdrive. "H-he said you have the way... so you must already have the method. You're just unsure of it."

A faint smile flits across the general's face, impressed by my deduction. "Sharp," he commends. Then, with a tilt of his head, he confirms, "It's still a work in progress, but we believe this essence must be absorbed by the body. So we constructed a tank that might be able to aid with the absorption process. Yet... it remains untested."

A tank? The very notion feels alien and overwhelming. Yet, if this is the chance I've been waiting for—a way to reclaim my life—I can't let fear hold me back. Steeling myself, I nod. "Show me."

The urgency of the moment becomes even more palpable as the general pulls out his radio, pressing the call button with a determined push. His voice, deep and authoritative, reverberates through the device.

"Delta team, initiate lockdown procedures for Project Origin-1. I repeat, initiate Project Origin-1."

A faint crackle is the only immediate response, but I can feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere around us. The weight of his words hangs heavily in the air.

"Echo team, ensure all devices are up and reinforcing the containment areas. I want a perimeter established ASAP."

I flinch as his words escalate in intensity. "Alpha, notify Dr. Larson and Dr. Reyes to get to the main chamber. They're spearheading this, and I want them front and center. Bravo, initiate a facility-wide announcement. Everyone needs to be on the same page."

Another pause, punctuated by brief acknowledgments from the other end. The corridors, previously eerily silent, are now alive with activity. Personnel rush past us, their faces etched with grim determination, some murmuring into their radios while others grip clipboards and digital tablets, eyes scanning data rapidly.

Red lights flash ominously overhead, casting an eerie hue over everything. The distinct sound of alarms blare, adding to the sense of imminent action. I can barely process the whirlwind of movement around me, a maelstrom of faces, uniforms, and orders.

"What is going on?" My voice emerges as a whisper, a mere drop in the ocean of activity. Everywhere I look, there's urgency. Just how dangerous is this experiment?

General Harlan's gaze remains unwaveringly focused ahead as he guides us through the bustling corridors. He seems unflappable in the chaos, a pillar of strength and resolve. It's only when we reach a more secluded area that he turns to me, a grave expression on his face.

"This experiment comes with uncertain results," he begins, his words measured. "You need to be fully aware of the potential consequences. If you fail to absorb the bead, you might transform into a monster. The lockdown and these precautions are not just for the facility's protection; they're for yours."

A cold realization washes over me. The weight of my decision, the potential ramifications, it all becomes crushingly real. But the alternative—remaining a prisoner to my unpredictable power—is not an option. I've come too far, endured too much. Taking a deep breath, I nod.

"I understand."

Hallways stretch ahead of us like a maze, each one indistinguishable from the last. The pulsing red lights give the long corridors an almost sinister feel, making my heart rate pick up with every step. Personnel hurry past us, their swift movements a testament to the urgency of the situation. However, amidst the chaos, General Harlan's presence remains a beacon of calm.

Soon, we arrive at a heavy metallic door, "Research Facility - Authorized Personnel Only" emblazoned across it. It slides open with a soft hiss, revealing an even larger space inside. In the center stands a massive tank, surrounded by thick cables, tubes, and wires that wind their way to various monitors and machines around the room. The water inside the tank is perfectly clear, but I can't shake off the unease that the sight of it brings.

The general stops, turning to face me with an intensity in his eyes that makes me feel exposed. "Aeliana, are you sure you want to do this? Once you're in that tank, there's no going back."

He reaches out, gripping my shoulders firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You are a member of the Lyristare family. I cannot, and will not, force you into this. So, you must sign these papers on camera. For transparency. I'm sure you understand why."

I don't need to be told twice. Despite the base being under General Harlan's control, the political power of the top families overshadows even his authority. Before I can respond, a staff member, lab coat rustling, rushes over with a thick stack of papers, while another military personnel starts setting up a camera, its lens focusing directly on me.

Taking a seat, I skim through the paperwork. There's a dizzying amount of text, clauses, agreements, and statements. How did they manage to print all of this so quickly? My hand cramps slightly as I sign page after page, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on me.

After what feels like an eternity, I place the pen down and take a deep breath. It's done.

General Harlan nods solemnly. "Are you ready?"

I nod. "Yeah... Let's do this."

General Harlan strides away from the research facility, leading us up a set of stairs that seems to stretch endlessly upwards. I can barely keep up, the weight of my decision echoing with every step. As we reach a higher floor, he pauses, a contemplative look on his face.

"Let's hope Caelum is right," he murmurs, more to himself than to me. His uncertainty makes my stomach twist. Did I make the right decision?

Suddenly, a group of female researchers approaches, their white coats pristine against the sterile environment of the base. I'm taken aback by their sudden appearance. They're all focused intently on me, their gazes analytical.

Before I can even react, one of them speaks up, her voice tinged with admiration. "Wow, your hair looks nice, pink and white. It matches so well with your pink eyes."

But then, without any warning or hesitation, they begin to move towards me. "Now, let's get all of this off," the same researcher says.

Confusion turns to embarrassment as they start removing all my accessories and clothes. I try to protest, but my words come out in mumbles. My face heats up. I suppose this is what's needed for the experiment, I rationalize to myself. But that doesn't make the situation any less awkward.

One of the researchers gently takes my hand and guides me towards the massive tank I had seen earlier. As I get closer, I can feel the warmth emanating from the water, a sharp contrast to the chilly air of the facility. She helps me step into the tank, and the water feels soothing against my skin.

Another researcher approaches with a mask connected to a long tube. "Now, darling," she says in a soothing voice, trying to ease my anxiety, "I know this is a bit scary, but you signed the paperwork. And don't worry, no boy can see you as you are right now."

As she secures the mask over my face, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. But then, a hiss of gas fills the mask. My eyelids grow heavy, and the world around me becomes a distant blur.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Professor Dr. Lysa Hartwell, the preeminent biotechnologist and Dean of Advanced Biological Studies at the Continental University, stands a few feet away from the massive tank. The light from her tablet casts a blueish hue on her features, emphasizing the sharpness of her gaze as she studies the form of Aeliana floating inside.

"Now, time to put you in position, miss," Lysa murmurs, her fingers dancing over the tablet's surface. With a subtle hum, a robotic arm emerges from within the tank, securing itself around Aeliana's legs. With precision and care, it pulls the young woman down until she hovers at the exact center of the liquid-filled chamber.

Satisfaction evident in her posture, Dr. Hartwell smirks slightly as she comments, "Now that that's done... let's make sure no boys can see your beauty." Her fingers tap a sequence on the tablet, and a large metallic cap descends from above, fitting itself over the tank's opening. A mechanical whirr fills the room as the tank seals completely, a vacuum process removing any remaining air inside, creating a near-perfect isolated environment.

A hint of excitement colors the professor's voice as she observes the proceedings. "I'm really glad you agreed to this," she muses aloud, seemingly lost in thought. "When I got the call, I could hardly believe it. But now, I can't wait to witness the results firsthand."

With another deft motion, she activates a final command on the tablet. Almost immediately, a thick metal plate encases the entire exterior of the tank, shielding its contents from all external eyes. The room is filled with a palpable sense of anticipation.

Straightening, Dr. Lysandra Hartwell lifts a radio from her lab coat, pressing the call button decisively. "Proceed to the next phase."

-

General Harlan receives the transmission, causing his gaze to shift intently to the screen before him. It presents a dazzling display of Aeliana's internal anatomy, illuminated in various wavelengths—ultraviolet, infrared, even a magnetic resonance overlay that highlights the subtle changes in her neural pathways. Each mode offers a unique view, revealing the intricacies of her physiology and the current state of her vitals. The multicolored displays dance with real-time information, each a testament to the marvel of the technology at hand.

His fingers brush the secure latch of a case resting beside him. Clicking it open, he reveals the bead, its size akin to a bowling ball, yet its beauty far more mesmerizing. It emanates a unique glow that seems to beckon him. Next to the case, there's a specially designed device—a conduit of sorts, waiting to channel the bead's essence.

Drawing a deep breath, he murmurs to himself, "All I have to do is put it in here, and..."

However, his words are suddenly interrupted by the familiar, irritating sound of bubble gum popping. Twisting around, he finds himself facing a golden-haired teenager. The boy, with his sunglasses reflecting the room's myriad lights, exudes an air of casual arrogance. His clothing is nonchalant, a stark contrast to the high-tech environment surrounding them. And in his hands, he idly plays with a set of metallic marbles.

Rolling his eyes, the general exhales, "What is it?"

The boy leans back, seemingly at ease, and counters, "Stopping you from using it. Father wants this bead, and according to the agree-"

But General Harlan, his patience evidently thin, cuts him off sharply, "According to the agreement, anything collected with the resources of Lord Evander Strathmore can be taken by him after some extensive research."

Closing the distance between them, the general pats the boy's shoulder condescendingly. "None of his resources were used in acquiring this bead," he states firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Unfazed, the boy takes a moment to pop his gum again. Once the sound fades, he retorts, "Think of your position."

Waving a dismissive hand, General Harlan counters, "I am not desperate. Learn how to negotiate instead of threaten someone, boy." With that, he confidently strides back to the console.