🇸​🇺​🇧​🇯​🇪​🇨​🇹​ Ø₁₅₂₇₈

𝐅𝐞𝐛 𝟏𝟏, 𝟐𝐗𝐗𝐗 ₀₅﹕₀₀﹕₀₆ ᴀ.ᴍ.

   Darkness submerges all existence, trickling into the world like heavy pen ink. Seeping into every porcelain pore, the pitch sank down to muddle every moment. There was the weight of a body, the tinge of a soul, but only silence remained. Not a thought could be heard above the deafening quiet - smothering any sound that could possibly escape.
  Yet, in a moment, a pair of blood red eyes had opened. Two thin, transparent inner eyelids parting just after their fleshy counterparts as a young man opened his optical reciprocators... or rather a young test subject. It was five o'clock in the morning, approximately 10 seconds after the hour struck, and exactly on time for when he was usually forced to wakefulness.
   In a moment, he sat up, an unspoken routine firmly implanted into his muscles. Usually, he would be woken up by an alarm siren. A prerecorded, feminine sounding voice recording going over the daily procedures and expectations as he straightened his back, eyes forward.
  However, as his gaze searched the room, it became apparently unfamiliar. He had been placed on a bed instead of the floor, and there was a small desk with a tray of food. The space was a muted gray color - unlike the fluorescent white he so vividly remembered - while the lights remained dimmed and comfortable.
  Rising from the mattress, it only took a fraction of a second for the young man to remember: this was not The Facility.
   This was a place he had been transported to a few days prior after a strange organization overthrew The Facility's people. He remembered the invasion quite vividly. There was a loud rukus, gun shots, yelling. Teams of people wearing black padded armor streamed in from various directions - even into what he called The Pit. All of the recovered test subjects had been restrained properly for transport, that day. Many having to be roughly handled while a few, like himself, were strapped down without resistance. Only a few of those restraints remained. An identification collar, ankle straps meant to be locked to a seat, and wrist straps of the same function were all that was left.
  Not giving any of this a glance, the young man stepped forward. His actions were both certain and careful as he approached the tray left for him. A few pieces of bread and soup rest there for his intake besides a cup of water. It was still warm when his hand approached the mellow liquid.
   It was strange. Usually, any approach would wake him, but this food was left here. Undisturbed and still warm as if it had materialized from thin air. That alone was quite unsettling as his skin prickled due to his hesitation. Quietly taking the glass of water, he took a small taste. Dihydrogen monoxide. Water in its most basic form. No salt, no sugar, highly filterated and untouched by drugs of any kind. Continuing by taking a few careful drinks, the male soon set the glass down.
   He wasn't provided any eating utensils, as per the usual. So, with a silent gesture, he took up the bread and took a nibble. Again, he could identify the yeast, sugar, salt, butter, flour, and eggs used to make the dough but nothing of a foreign substance.. They didn't put anything in this food. This mysterious "they" only left it and took it away whenever it was deemed he was finished. No one forced him to eat, so he hadn't until it was necessary. Until today.
   The body can function for approximately four days without food or water. If water is taken in, the body can function for longer - even without food. However, as he had refused to eat or drink nearly anything, his time was almost up. He had to drink something, and testing both the food and water was better than just one.
   After finishing the bread and water, the young man went back over to the far wall of the room. Away from the desk that held the food and away from the bed frame. With his back placed against the wall, he sat down as his eyes stared forward. Like a prisoner, he sat waiting. Expecting the next test, the next interaction, the next something to come of this entire sharade.
  It was hours until anything changed. He continued to sit, knees propped up with his inner elbows resting on either peak. Eyes boring into the opposite wall as he breathed and counted the beats of his pulse. Yet, unlike today or yesterday or the day before, there was a knock on the recess indicating a door. It was a dim gray like every other wall in the room, so it was hard to spot at first, but he noticed it well before this audio cue. With a clean click, the locks eased, and the door slid open. Of course, he didn't look over even as they paused. With a gentle clearing of their throat, the person came in. A pair of heels clicking against the spotless floor as they introduced themselves.
   "Hello, I'm Doctor Teresa Ogando. You must be Subject 15278." Shuffling through her paperwork awkwardly, the short Dominican woman made sure not to approach him any further as she continued, eyes rising. "It's been almost a week since your tranfer into our establishment. Do you have any questions? Maybe about where you are, who we are...?" To have sent a doctor only to ask these rudementary questions meant one thing: he was the only one who hadn't made a fuss yet.
   There weren't many subjects as old as him - as experienced. So, when moved to a new environment or asked questions, he knew better than to answer right away. There had been tests of his previous loyalty to The Facility. This "change of scenery" could be one of them. A staging. An act. "No." Answering shortly, the red scalaras of the males eyes didn't shift as his companion did. Her body hesitated, nervous as she tried to smile before continuing.
   "Well... Now that you've eaten, let's at least clarify a few things, okay?" She was trying to be gentle with him. An unusual tactic as the dark-haired woman took a breath before beginning again. "Let's restart, then. Hello, my name is Doctor Teresa Ogando. Welcome to B.E.T.A."