MILA

"Mila, hold still."
The words were sharp, clinical-spoken by someone who had done this a thousand times, but for me, it was the first. Maybe the last.
"Begin."
The command echoed, followed by a mechanical hum that filled the sterile room.
Interlinked...
Interlinked...
Interlinked...

Each repetition slammed through my skull like a pulse, like a countdown I didn't understand but couldn't stop. A sharp flash of white light seared across my vision-blinding, endless, all-consuming.

I shook violently, my body rebelling against the machine's grip as sweat carved cold rivers down my spine. My breath hitched, ragged, as my heartbeat pounded in my ears, faster, louder, threatening to tear itself free.

Was this it?
Had this been the end?
Or was this the beginning of something I couldn't come back from?