Backlash
The warehouse loomed like a concrete monolith in the heart of Delta City. Neon signs cast a garish glow on the rain-slick streets, their garish reflections shimmering on the warehouse's grime-coated windows. Inside, a sterile silence hung heavy, broken only by the soft hum of ventilation shafts. Seven figures stood before a wall of reinforced glass, its smooth surface reflecting their tense expressions. It wasn't a simple partition; an intricate network of glowing blue veins pulsed within the glass, each thrumming with an otherworldly energy.On the other side, bathed in an eerie blue light, lay a tableau of human misery. Twenty figures, a mix of ages and genders, were strapped to glass tables, their bodies unnaturally still. Unconsciousness couldn't fully mask the grimace of pain etched on their faces. Stranger still, pulsating blue patches writhed beneath their skin, like alien parasites fighting to escape.