Alchemy. It is a wonderful amalgamation of sciences that tries to decipher the mysteries of the universe. We might never understand the fundamentals of its principles, so we keep following the practices it brought us to keep creating and upgrading our world. There was probably more theory behind it before the Third Apocalypse then what we have now, but most of the knowledge is lost and we are left with wondering at the marvels we are able to carve with the help of it.
Awakened, the first he ever felt in his life was suffocation. Thick liquid pouring into his lungs, filling it with razor sharp flames. His eyes popped wide open to stare into nothingness. The light was pain and it was filtered through a bright orange fluid. His arms now made the first movement, his shoulders hurt for the uncontrolled slashing around him. His numb fingers grabbed something which led to his face, to his mouth. He pulled on it and finally elevated to the surface and tried to breathe.
It was impossible with all the disgusting juice in his throat. He spit, he vomited, and he tore the never-ending cords out of his mouth. He finally got air. The wind was chilling cold and burned inside him but he was now able to rest. The fight for his life was seemingly over and he cleared his face with shaking hands to see for the first time.
He was now sitting up in a pool of something that seemed like 'milk' and ranged from hues of orange to red. A layer of filth nestled on the surface with floating dirt he couldn't make out clearly as his vision was blurry. He blinked hard and his weak, pale arms reached the side of the ceramic frame. Another tube popped out, this time from his navel, spreading blood to the pool before he managed to climb over the side of this rectangular bathtub to fall onto a metal grid. It sounded and felt like a splatter of a large fish on the shore. Everything was cold. Noise of humming machines and rattling cogs echoed in this room. He stared at the ceiling from where black cables hung under the darkened rusty pipes which crisscrossed to the walls met with a complicated apparatus. There were canisters of clear and dark liquids emerging from motors of corroded metal and black plastic. The tubes went from these appliances to the pool and back, where some disappeared into the pond he crawled out of seconds ago. He wanted to throw up, but there was nothing left. Dry heaving and gasping for minutes on. He went on to observe the other side of the wall, that led to the corridor from here. Sharp light cut up the room into fragments as the deep yellow mining lamps nested behind their cages. They created hard shadows and illuminated the see-through bags of human sized dolls in the far corner of the room. They had no face, not yet, but he knew what they were. It was a still life to scream at, but he was mute. His mouth was sore and the vocal cords still drenched in spit and blood. He heard footsteps from the distance and soon saw the shadows on the tiles which covered the wall of the corridor; people approaching.
He remembered all of this, but not quite. It was all like lost dream, futile to chase. Every word was on the tip of his tongue, a haunting Deja vu that is to be followed with something terrifying. It was all out of reach.
Suddenly two tall figures entered and seconds later they stood above him. They talked in a language he needed time to adjust to. One parted from the other, and cold water rained down on him. It was a shocking surprise and made him aware of his helplessness. He was lying on a grid which was a canal and above him hung a shower head. One of his hosts decided to rinse him down with ice cold water, it felt like whips on his skin. He squealed like an animal and writhed to get away but his muscles were still struggling to adjust to his will.
After what felt like an eternity the water stopped and he was clean from blood and whatever those other things were. He started to be conscious about the smell reminding him of rotten meat, while in the same time he was wondering where does he know what meat smells like?
"You can see that using the new recipe, we can get much better quality" he heard each word, but somehow the meaning eluded him. A female stood over him. She wore something dark under her long laboratory white coat. Her dirty boots were right next to his hand and this was the first time when he realized that he was completely naked. Still shaking from being dripping wet he turned his long neck to look up her from his fetal position. She pointed flashlight towards him while still leading the conversation "Look at the texture, the joints are also flawless" she paused. "Circulation seems to be fine but left eye looks damaged. Deformed sternum, under pigmented skin, six fingers on left hand, though all the toes are normal." She observed him and pointed the circle of light to different areas. "Femur underdeveloped, asymmetric torso and the neural dissonance is visible."
She sounded bored, analytic and leaned closer to him. Now the other voice, who was a male joined the conversation "I thought the skin needed a few days to get its intended color." The lady regained her upright position making her look unnatural tall, but that was probably from the perspective. She started walking around. Boots walking near to something he anticipated.
"I was working to get an exact shade and it's nowhere near. That is why I noted it." The man nodded acknowledging the answer. She then turned away to face her colleague "Do you have any question before we restart?" The man hesitated but after a short observation he asked "will we not use this one at all?"
"No. He wouldn't even stand a chance to start the Eleven Trials" the man stared at her with inquiry in his dark eyes so she decided to go on "You will find details about the Trials as well in the documents I sent you. For short, it is a series of mental and physiological tests, to see if the asset functions properly."
