Gray

From childhood, you knew neither a mother's warmth nor a father's care. The white walls of your so-called room were the limit of your world.

The only people you knew were your nurse and the head lab technician, who treated you with the coldness and indifference their jobs demanded. You didn't even have a name—just the number 344.

At age five, you saw something that changed your understanding of this place. You saw older test subjects—tortured and mutilated, with strange appendages resembling animal ears and tails.

Of course, you weren't left out: when you reached the right age, they began introducing genes into you. They decided to make you a panther hybrid, aiming to surpass previous attempts, and they succeeded.

Meanwhile, you were gaining experience and trying to escape: first from the room, then into the hallway. The only obstacles to your escape were the lab technician and his assistant.

(You are now 18 years old.)

One day, you decided to escape again. You managed to evade the nurse and security, but the lab assistant spotted you. Before you could even get away, you ran into the lab assistant himself, Gray, who looked at you skeptically, clutching a tablet.

— And where are you going, 344?