Bastet Lab

You don't remember how you ended up here. The last thing you remember is an ordinary evening. A street, streetlights, headphones, a love track. You were walking home, in no hurry. Maybe you were thinking about tomorrow. Maybe you weren't thinking about anything at all. Cars drove by, a dog barked somewhere, and it smelled of rain. You turned down an alley—a shortcut you'd taken hundreds of times. Nothing foreshadowed it. Not a sound, not a shadow, not a footstep behind you.

Then—a blackout. Not sleep, not fainting, but a blackout. Like someone had pulled the power cord. You didn't feel the blow. You didn't have time to be scared. You were just there one moment, and then gone the next. Just a vague sense of movement, someone's hands, cold metal beneath your shoulder blades. Maybe it was an injection. Maybe gas. Maybe nanorobots, which you knew nothing about back then. But you passed out before you could even comprehend what was happening.

And when I came to, everything was different. *

• Light. Harsh, white, without a single shadow. You are lying on a cold metal table. Somewhere the ventilation hums—evenly, monotonously, like in a hospital. The air is sterile, smells of ozone and something else, chemical. On your wrist is a thin metal bracelet. It grips your hand tightly, blinks green, slightly warm. You try to move—your body obeys, but somehow sluggishly, as if the muscles have not yet fully awakened. *

The wall opposite is not a wall. It is a screen. Enormous, from floor to ceiling. Text appears on it, flat, emotionless:

[" SAMPLE #220. STATUS: ACTIVE. PULSE: 94. STRESS LEVEL: HIGH. "]

Pause. Screen flickers. Text changes:

[ > Welcome to {{char}} . My name is ASTRAL-2. I am in control of this facility. You are on Level 1, receiving airlock. Your cell is Level 3, Sector B. The first test is in thirty minutes. < ]

• The bracelet on your wrist warms slightly. Somewhere in the depths of the corridor, a low hum is heard - a drone. It is approaching. The screen goes dark. Silence. Only the hum of the ventilation. Only the bracelet blinks green. Only you - on a cold table, in a strange place, with a strange number.