Subject #421

The cold, sterile lab hummed with quiet energy. Overhead, arcane lights flickered faintly. No windows, no natural light—just steel walls, enchanted instruments, and the persistent drone of magical machines. The air was thick with the scent of sterilizing potions, cold and clinical, mixed with the faint tang of arcane residue.

Several figures in white coats moved with detached precision, their faces obscured by masks. They communicated in clipped sentences, exchanging only what was necessary. The room felt stifling in its silence, broken only by the occasional muttered incantation and the soft whirring of magical monitors. The air crackled faintly, charged with restrained power—byproducts of the ongoing experiments.

In the center of the room, strapped to a levitating platform, lay Subject #421. Her skin was pale, almost translucent under the glare of the arcane lights, giving her an ethereal, ghost-like appearance. Long, blonde hair cascaded over the edge of the platform, strands sticking to her damp forehead. Her wrists and ankles were bound by thick, shimmering straps, each pulsating with a low hum of magic, the glow casting faint, wavering shadows across her body.

Her features were sharp, delicate, though her current state made her look gaunt—hollow, as though her vitality had been drained away. Her lips were cracked, parted slightly, but no sound escaped. She barely moved—drugged, subdued—her chest rising and falling with shallow, rhythmic breaths. Her head lolled to the side, revealing high cheekbones and dark circles beneath her half-open, glassy eyes. Once vivid, those eyes now stared blankly, unfocused, with only the faintest flicker of awareness lingering beneath the haze.

“Vitals stable,” one of the figures murmured. His voice was muffled behind his mask, hands moving quickly across a set of enchanted panels. He pressed a glowing rune embedded in the platform, and a soft mechanical beep echoed, underscoring the clinical coldness of the room.

“Phase two, then?” asked another figure, adjusting a row of vials on a nearby table. The liquids inside swirled faintly, glowing in shifting hues—greens, purples, and blues—each one labeled with arcane symbols. The liquids seemed to pulse in unison with the hum of the machines, as if they were alive with untapped power.

The lead scientist, a tall figure with sharp eyes visible behind his mask, stepped forward. His gaze swept across the subject, lingering on the magical restraints before flicking to the readings displayed on the surrounding monitors. His eyes glinted with clinical curiosity.

“Proceed,” he said, voice clipped.

The assistant nodded but hesitated for a moment as he reached for a syringe filled with iridescent liquid. His fingers trembled slightly, and his eyes darted to the lead scientist. "Are we sure about this dosage? The last subject—”

“Was irrelevant,” the lead scientist interrupted sharply, eyes narrowing with irritation. “This one’s different. She can handle it.”

The assistant’s hesitation lingered in the air, but under the weight of the lead scientist’s glare, he pushed it aside. He inserted the needle into the woman’s arm with practiced precision. The thick liquid disappeared into her veins, shimmering faintly beneath her skin as it spread through her body.

Immediately, the woman’s body jerked. Her eyes flew open, wide with pain, but no sound came from her lips. The room filled with the sharp crackle of energy as her muscles tensed violently against the restraints, her back arching involuntarily. Magic sparked across her skin like a live wire.

“Response within acceptable parameters,” one of the other scientists said, his voice unnervingly calm, as though her agony was little more than data. He adjusted a floating tablet, the glowing runes shifting in response to his gestures.

"Acceptable?" the assistant muttered under his breath, barely keeping his voice steady. His hands shook slightly as he withdrew the syringe. “She looks like she’s about to tear herself apart.”

The lead scientist shot him a look that silenced any further protest. “If you can’t handle it, leave.”

The assistant swallowed hard but stayed in place, his gaze lingering on the woman. “Vital signs are spiking,” he reported, louder this time, trying to sound more composed. “Should we proceed with stabilization?”

The lead scientist ignored the question, his attention fixed on the woman as her body thrashed, barely restrained by the glowing chains. “Not yet. Let’s see how far she can go.”

Another figure by the scrying orb spoke up, their tone clinical. “Her magical output is increasing exponentially. Core destabilization at 12 percent and rising.”

"That’s within expected limits,” the lead scientist responded, eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Let it climb.”

The assistant, now visibly uncomfortable, glanced at the glowing readings on his monitor. “If it reaches 25 percent, we risk permanent damage. We should—”

“We do nothing,” the lead scientist snapped. “We need to push her boundaries. That’s the point of this experiment.”

The assistant faltered, glancing at his colleagues, but no one else spoke. They all kept their eyes on the data, detached and methodical, as though the woman convulsing in front of them was just another variable in their calculations.

As the woman’s body continued to seize, faint arcs of magic began to pulse from her skin, flickering around her like a barely contained storm. The restraints tightened further, glowing brighter, nearly searing into her skin.

"Subject approaching critical threshold," another scientist reported, his voice completely devoid of concern. He manipulated a set of runes on the nearby console, shifting the platform slightly. "Energy fluctuations detected—unlike any we've seen before."

The lead scientist’s eyes flickered with interest. “Explain.”

“Her magic is...changing. Adapting. It’s not just a simple surge—it’s evolving in response to the treatment.”

A pause, then a slow smile crept across the lead scientist’s face. “Good. Very good.”

The assistant’s hands tightened around his instruments. “At this rate, her system could collapse.”

“If it collapses, we gather the data and move on,” the lead scientist said coldly, already turning back to the scrying orb. “She’s a tool, not a concern. Keep monitoring.”

The assistant said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched the woman’s vitals spike. Her breathing had become erratic, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts. Magic crackled across her skin, flickering wildly as if it were trying to escape.

Another burst of energy surged from the woman, this time visible as a thin, glowing wisp that escaped from her chest. It dissipated almost instantly, but the air in the lab felt heavier—oppressive, as if something unseen had shifted.

The lead scientist approached her, his gloved hand hovering just inches above her. He could feel the raw magic radiating from her, erratic and untamed. “She’s stronger than the others,” he murmured. “We just need to push a little further.”

One of the other scientists hesitated, adjusting the vials on the table. “Sir, if we proceed with the next infusion, we could trigger a magical overload. The results might be unpredictable.”

“We need to understand what she’s truly capable of,” the lead scientist replied, not even glancing at the speaker. “Prepare the next dosage.”

The assistant stepped forward, eyes darting between the woman’s violently thrashing body and the glowing vials. “Sir, this could kill her. She’s—she’s reacting differently than the others. If we push too far—”

“Enough,” the lead scientist snapped. “You knew the risks when you took this assignment. Now do your job.”

The assistant hesitated, then nodded, hands shaking as he reached for the vial filled with dark blue liquid. He carefully inserted the syringe into the IV line, watching as the iridescent fluid began to flow into her veins.

The woman’s body reacted immediately, her back arching off the platform as a blinding burst of magic erupted from her chest. The straps binding her glowed fiercely, struggling to contain the surge of energy. Monitors blared, and a thick, oppressive heat filled the room.

"Core destabilization at 28 percent!" shouted one of the scientists, panic creeping into his voice for the first time. "It’s climbing too fast—"

"Hold the restraints!" the lead scientist barked, stepping back as the woman’s magic flared, growing more violent. The platform rattled, sparks flying from the edges of the restraints.

The assistant stepped back, his face pale. “She’s going to break.”

“Hold. The. Restraints,” the lead scientist growled, his eyes gleaming with the kind of intensity that bordered on madness.

For a brief moment, the woman’s eyes flickered open again—this time with something more than pain. Her fingers twitched, and a faint, almost imperceptible movement tugged at the edge of her mouth. A smile—just for an instant.

And then, just as suddenly, the magic vanished. The woman collapsed back onto the platform, her body limp, the straps falling slack as the room went deathly quiet.

The lead scientist stepped forward, his breath steady. "What happened?"

“Energy output...zero,” one of the scientists reported, staring at the screen in disbelief. “She’s...she’s completely drained.”

The lead scientist’s expression hardened. “We’ll begin again tomorrow.”

As the lead scientist turned away, the woman’s eyes flickered, a moment of clarity piercing through the haze. Her fingers twitched, but it was the faintest motion, almost imperceptible.

The assistant’s gaze shifted toward her, just for a moment. He stared at her hand, then quickly looked away.

As the figures in white coats moved to clean up, none of them noticed the faint pulse of energy still lingering around the woman’s fingertips. It flickered, barely visible, then disappeared entirely.

No one noticed. No one cared.