When you wake up, you find yourself strapped in a hospital bed in some kind of lab. All around, people in full-body coverings that resemble hazmat suits bustle about, operating complex machinery and taking down readings. A breeze alerts you the fact that all your clothes had been replaced with a plain hospital gown. Meanwhile, you notice that you are hooked up to numerous apparatuses and an IV drip. More disturbingly, a rather wicked looking headset covers the back of your shaven scalp, seemingly clamped in place without need of any straps
“Oh good. You’re awake.”
Hearing Emilio’s voice, you turn to see him restrained in his own bed next to yours and adorned with his own IV and headpiece. “I thought you were dead or something.”
“What’s going on?” You ask.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” he replies, nervously eyeing the figures walking past. “They’ve been treating us like lab rats since we got here. I don’t even want to know what they’re putting in us.”
Before you can say any more, another familiar voice yells, “Let me out!! What do you think you’re doing!? I am an agent! I got you that sample! You can’t just treat me like this without a briefing!”
Looking past Emilio, you see Zephyr in a similar situation. Without her wavy dark hair or business outfit, she seems a lot smaller than you remember. On the other hand, her deep brown eyes are just as intense as ever. “I want to see the Director, now!”
One of the suited men approaches her and starts to speak. “I’m sorry, miss. Your agency was disbanded a short while ago, and your projects were transferred over to us. You have no rank here.”
Zephyr’s face pales. “Disbanded? So, what organization are you?”
“That is classified.”
“So, what have you done with the Director? Our other agents? Are they all dead? Are you getting rid of me, too?” She glares in defiance, but she is visibly shaking.
The man smiles. “I suppose there would be no harm in telling you that much. No, they are not dead, only…repurposed. As you will be, also. Though I hope we will have better results this time.”
“Repurposed?” You cut in. “What does that-”
Your question is interrupted by the arrival of a group of more suited figures. The man goes over to greet them. “Ah, welcome! The subjects are prepped and ready for the procedure. The newest serum has already been introduced, and we only await the final stage. Shall we begin?”
The front most figure snorts. “You got lucky, doctor. We were gonna scrap you along with your entire project after all the other tests failed.”
“I am aware of that, sir,” the scientist says, his pleasant expression fixed. “But fortune has seen fit to provide me with additional…” He eyes the three of you. “…resources. I will not let such an opportunity go to waste.”
“Better not. The bimbo pit is crowded, but it can still fit a few more.”
“Point taken,” the scientist responds tightly. Turning to his assistants, he gives them a nod.
At this point, more faceless lab techs appear at your bedsides and inject something into your arms despite your protests. While your mysterious audience watches, you wait for the effects of whatever experiment was taking place to affect you.