Aris glances at her in confusion. Why would anyone refuse such an opportunity?

Elise catches his look and realises how far apart they are in this moment, the same desperate hunger she's seen in interrogation footage of cult members, people so broken they'd accept any promise of transformation. And the casual way she discussed human experimentation, I've seen that evangelical gleam before, in the eyes of fanatics who believe their cause justifies any means. The way she talks about 'democratising' abilities, like she's offering salvation... This is how people disappear.

Elise opened her mouth to challenge the ethics, then caught herself. Phoebe's fervour had that brittle quality of someone past reasoning. Push too hard, and she might shut down entirely or worse, become suspicious of why Elise cared so much.

Instead, Elise forced her expression into something resembling acceptance, though her hands remained clenched at her sides. "Now that I think about it," she pauses, feigning thought, "I think I answered my own question." She managed a bashful laugh, glancing at Aris to see if he caught the undertone of warning in her voice.

But Aris was still staring at the machine with that fascinated expression, completely missing her attempt at subtle communication.

Phoebe continued, oblivious to—or ignoring—Elise's discomfort. "Imagine a world where everyone is special instead of the lucky few."

Elise bit back her immediate response; instead, she took a small step closer to Aris, seemingly to get a better look at the machine, but really to position herself between him and Phoebe's growing enthusiasm.

"This is incredible, Phoebe. I think I need time to process everything you've shown us, it's quite the future you've presented us, right, Aris?" Elise stepped back from the machine. "As much as we'd like to stay, we've had a long day, and I think having some time to take it all in would allow us to provide some insight that might drive some inspiration."

Aris blinked, seeming to surface from his fascination with the machine. "Oh, right... yeah, I probably should too..." Remembering the workload awaiting him at his desk.

"Of course!" Phoebe's smile remained bright, but Elise caught a flicker of disappointment. "I do tend to get carried away when discussing my work. Thank you both for letting me share it with you."

"Thank you for showing us," Elise replied, already moving toward the door. "It's given me a lot to think about." A sliver of spite seeps through.

Once they were several corridors away from Phoebe's lab, Elise's careful composure finally cracked. She stumbled slightly, one hand flying to the wall for support as her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

"Elise?" Aris's voice seemed to come from very far away. "Are you okay?"

The memories tried to surface, but every time she grasped for the connection, it slipped away like water through her fingers, leaving behind only a throbbing pain behind her eyes.

"There's something wrong with it", she managed, her voice shaky. "That machine..." She tried to explain about her supernatural experiences, about the research that had nearly killed her, but the words felt heavy on her tongue, refusing to form properly.

"I can't—" Pain lanced through her skull as she pushed harder against whatever was blocking her thoughts. "I can't remember why, but—" she paused, weighing the consequences of his involvement. "Never mind... I just need to lie down."

"This isn't just about being tired, is it? You looked terrified in there."

Elise paused in surprise. She closed her eyes, the pain still pulsing behind them. Every instinct told her to warn him, but the words wouldn't come—and even if they did, what then? He'd ask more questions, want to help, and end up in my danger, my problems.

"I'm just being paranoid," she lied, forcing herself to straighten up. "Too much caffeine, not enough sleep. You know how it is."

"That's not—"

"Aris." Her voice carried a finality that made him stop. "You said it yourself, you don't know where to begin with everything you're dealing with. Trust me, you don't need my problems added to that list."

She managed a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Just... be careful around this research, okay? Some things are better left... at a distance."

Elise tries to get back upright but stumbles, and Aris catches her.

"I can help—" Aris is interrupted by Elise.

"I'm still sober, I can make it back on my own, thank you very much, sir." With his support, Elise was able to stand upright.

Aris hesitates for a moment before conceding and leaving. They say their goodbyes, but Aris glances back, seeing Elise walking somewhat normally. And as he makes it out of view, Elise sprints to the bathroom in the next corridor, adrenaline momentarily subsiding her discomfort.

Hugging the toilet seat like a caretaker as her gut churns with anxiety, and the pain in her head, scrambling with a nauseous sensation. She gagged into the bowl, but nothing seemed to come out. Giving up, she leaned against the stall, waiting for the experience to subside.

A vibration emanates from her jean pocket, a phone call. She accepts it without reading who it may be, setting it on speaker.

"Hello?" she calls out in a groggy voice.

"And here I thought the ladies would come a-calling," a familiar voice echoes in the empty bathroom walls, the recognition triggering her to vomit.

Some relief emerges in Elise as the knot forming in her gut is undone, although the aftertaste of disgust stuck in her throat as she cursed him out, "What do you want?"

"To know if you felt it too," Lyle's voice carried that same unsettling certainty through the phone. "The connection between us isn't as one-sided as you thought, is it, Elise?"

"Again with this," she gives an annoyed sigh. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't." His chuckle made her skin crawl. "Because you can't, your body won't let you, your mind won't let you, you won't let yourself, or the more appropriate word at this point is can't." Lyle pauses, letting his words linger in the air. "That's why you're still on the line instead of hanging up."

Elise didn't respond.

"The headaches, the visions, the memories," Lyle continues. "These are roadblocks keeping you from moving forward, unless I allow it."

Elise's face twists with shades of disgust and animosity. "Get to the point, now." Her emotions silenced the anxiety, reconstructing the knots that had been undone.

"You were right, it was my 'Omega' that was the issue, but not in the way either of us could've imagined or expected. I was honestly hoping you'd have figured it out and let me know, but it turns out you can't. What irony."

"So what if I can't? Did you call just to taunt me?"

"I would never do that, never!" Lyle gestures defensively, but Elise is unable to see his expression. "At least not over a phone call." his voice drops to an audible murmur. "What I want is to... read to you. Your memories."

Elise's heart sinks, eyes expanding in revelation, and clarity fills her. Her body feels breathless, absent. Light engulfs her retina.

The light subsides, her vision returning. She's standing in the hallway again, awakened from a false reality or set into another, impossible to discern. Elise watches Aris making his exit down the halls again. Her body felt strangely healthy—the headaches gone, the nausea settled. The body that was once in pandemonium now felt... normal, like he'd simply switched off her pain.

She reaches for the phone in her pocket, already awaiting a call from Lyle but ringing silently. She answers it.

"What I want is to show you what you've forgotten. Forgotten about yourself. About me. About us. About why you're seeing fragments of memories that don't feel like yours." Lyle's voice took on an almost gentle tone that somehow felt more threatening than his earlier taunts. "The meeting will be at Café Haricot. Same as our first meet. Take however long to rest, I'll be available whenever you want"

"And if I don't want to meet?" her question coming in a timidity unfamiliar to her.

"Then you'll keep having those headaches until they drive you mad, after all, I can't hold back the effects of the mark set on you for too long. And your precious Aris will be getting pulled deeper into something he was never meant to be part of."

Elise freezes in shock but can stutter out, "H-how—" before the call cuts. Elise knew he wouldn't explain even if she pressed him. Always cryptic and giving off the impression of knowing everything. I'd assume he's bluffing, but even his bluffs seem to point toward some truth I can't see.

Elise makes her way out of the building, her mind racing. A mark? What mark? And how long had he been controlling her pain? Has he been controlling it? What is the extent of Omega, and is he able to actually read memories?

She needed to get home, needed to think clearly away from the university and its watchful eyes. But as she walked, each step felt heavier than the last. The familiar route home felt foreign now, as if she were seeing it through someone else's eyes. Past the newsstand where the elderly vendor nodded his usual greeting, had she been here before today? Her feet carried her automatically toward the metro station while her thoughts spiralled. Every step felt surreal, as the reality and Lyle's unreality blurred the lines, just as he had done to her in that hallway. Past the flower shop with its wilting autumn displays, the sudden clarity felt like waking from a dream within a dream, not quite real.

She watched every face in the crowd, wondering if they could be watching her. Every passerby could be one of Lyle's people, or another Omega user with abilities she couldn't fathom.

The temporary relief Lyle had given her was already fading, and she felt the familiar pressure building behind her eyes like storm clouds gathering. Right on schedule, like he was controlling a dimmer switch in my skull. Screw him. She picked up her pace, trying to outrun the returning pain. Making me dependent, treating me like a junky.

She ducked into the metro entrance, grateful for the anonymous crush of commuters. Here, at least, she could disappear into the crowd. But even as the train arrived and she found a seat, the paranoia followed. The businessman reading his paper—was he really reading, or watching her reflection in the window? The student with headphones—were they actually listening to music, or waiting for me to say something incriminating?

Elise chuckles as she realises her circumstances. Surrounded on all sides. It's like I'm forced to grovel to these huskies.

How many times has this happened before? The question made her stomach lurch. How many conversations, how many decisions, how many memories aren't even mine?

Worry filled her psyche that she had nearly missed her stop, only making out moments before the doors shut, that's when she realised she had left her bag in class. Overwhelmed by emotions, she decided to discard it to stop herself from breaking down in public.

It's all too much, the clatter of shoes on the metro stairs as she emerges onto street level. Paused at the crosswalk, watching the light cycle through its colours. Red, amber, green. Simple, predictable, unlike everything else in her life right now. A businesswoman bumped past her, muttering an apology she didn't acknowledge. All she desired was to be away from it all.

That escape was granted to her as she entered her apartment and fell onto her bed, sinking into it and staring at the barren ceiling. She spent several minutes letting her thoughts simmer, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Lyle. She rolled onto her side, pressing her face into the pillow. His white trench coat appeared weighty, the white so pristine that one would think it had just come from the factory. Elise sits up, gazing at her faint reflection in the window as the sunlight dims. Her face drooped in exhaustion that not even Lyle could alleviate. He had an air of not needing anything from anyone, and he was self-assured, with the resources to back it up.

She sat up and looked around her sparse apartment. What did she have? A criminology degree in progress and headaches courtesy of whatever "mark" he'd put on me. She looked at her hands, empty, and lil ol' me is just a lowly human trying to fight against people that could crush me in an instant. She clenches her palms open and close, and yet I have him in my clutches.

She had finally caught herself spiralling, thoughts circling the drain of dread. No. She pressed her palms against her temples, forcing the panic back. She couldn't let them consume her thoughts—that was how she'd forfeit the one thing she still controlled, agency. Lyle is too curious, too invested in this phenomenon, to just walk away. That much I can work with. Keep him guessing, stay unpredictable, stall for time.

Phoebe. Now there was someone she could read. All that timidity melted away the moment she got near her precious research. Elise had seen it—the way Phoebe's entire posture changed in her lab, shoulders back, movements confident. And the way her eyes had tracked Aris during that class...

She falls back onto her bed with some relief, softening her face. She raises her hand, reaching for the ceiling, squeezing onto nothing before letting go. Elise attempts to sit back up, but the full extent of her exhaustion finally hits her.

She digs into her pocket for her phone. I guess I'll throw her a bone or two and see how far she'll go, and thankfully, she'll keep me out of it. She visited the university's website and navigated to the list of researchers currently working at the university. So, might as well play nice for now, meet some investors, and powerful huskies, maybe I'll have something to use against Lyle, no matter how in control he may want to appear. I know he has no idea what he's doing. The page listing all the present researchers and their contact information was on full display. Ease settled as she regained partial hold of herself.