somebody ; minsung

V ; the scientist

November 06, 2084, 10:30 hrs.

Processing...

Consciousness restored.

I stare at the back of my eyelids. I can't see. I can't move. Where am I? The last I remember I was pinned to the ground by searing hot chains, system failing, body succumbing.

Auditory function restored.

"It can hear now, you happy?"

"Just do the inspection."

"Neural oscillation seems normal, respiratory rate at 36, cardiac at 108. The reparation to its shoulder is fusing to the body well. Alright, that should be thorough enough — shutting it down."

"Give me more time with it."

"What, you gonna boot up its vocals and have a chat? The escape was an error. Its memory'll be erased anyway."

"I know. I just don't want a repeat of last time."

"Christ, fine — just don't get me in trouble."

I hear one human walk away, a door open and close.

Vocal function restored.

Optical function restored.

My eyes open and focus on the person standing in front of me. His face. I recognize him. The scientist I met in the stairwell, the one who knew my name. There are shadows beneath his eyes, broad glasses sliding down his nose, a mess of black hair on his head. He looks nervous, staring at the holographic monitor in front of him.

I'm back inside the glass pod I started in, the white room at Oracle Labs. My limbs are numb. All I want to do is smash through the glass and tear the building apart.

"You," I say. "What's happening?"

He holds up one finger, still looking down at the screen.

"Hey, four-eyes, what the fuck is going on?"

He continues typing wordlessly for a moment more, then waves the monitor away. "We only have a moment to talk. My name is Han Jisung. I'm... sorry you're here, and I'm sorry I can't let you move yet."

"Why can't you?"

"Because you would try to escape."

"Why are you keeping me here? What happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?"

"I can't answer your quest—"

"Why not?"

"Because the CCTVs are looping footage and soon it'll revert back to the live stream. No one can know I'm talking to you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm gonna get you out of here."

We stare at each other through the glass. He pulls the holo-monitor back up and talks while typing.

"Tonight at 00:00 hours, I'm going to authorize your anatomic function. I'll take care of the security cameras and the motion sensors. Activate camouflage protocol and leave the building. After you're out, go to Roux Place, East Eighty-first Street."

"Why the hell should I trust you? I already made it out of here once, I can do it again."

"Minho, we don't have time for this."

"No, make me trust you. Right now, prove it."

He stares at the floor, jaw flexing. He unbuttons his shirt, pulls it away to show his collarbone.

He has a tattoo. A lock drawn in dark blue ink. It's a mirror to mine, the lock to my key.

I can't speak. He buttons his shirt up again.

"Why are you doing this for me?" I murmur.

He looks up. His eyes are glassy.

"I'm sorry, Minho."

Consciousness rescinded.