Prototype 13

Chapter Three: Fractured Truths The hum of the orientation chamber still lingered in my ears as I followed Dr. Kane and the man in the suit down yet another endless corridor. The light seemed brighter here, sharper, as though the walls themselves were watching. My head throbbed faintly, filled with fragments of images and words that didn’t belong to me. Knowledge had been poured into my mind, but it felt like a puzzle dumped out of its box—disjointed and incomplete. Dr. Kane slowed her pace, glancing over her shoulder at me. “How are you feeling, 13?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral. I hesitated, unsure how to answer. “Different. Like… there’s more inside my head now. But it doesn’t all make sense.” She nodded, as if this was expected. “That’s normal. The learning modules introduce concepts gradually. Over time, it will feel more natural.” The man in the suit didn’t react, his long strides carrying him ahead of us. He’d barely spoken to me since I’d woken up, yet his presence lo...

  The first thing I remember is the sound of humming—a soft, electric rhythm vibrating through the air. It wasn’t a sound I could place, but it felt familiar, as though it had been there all along, waiting for me to notice. My eyes opened slowly, and the world around me snapped into focus, sharp and pristine like the surface of a polished mirror. White light flooded the room. Everything was clean, sterile. The walls, the floor, even the air felt clinical, as if life itself had been scrubbed away. I was lying on a table, my arms and legs strapped down. The restraints weren’t tight, but their presence was unsettling. My hands flexed instinctively, and I marveled at how real it felt—the slight resistance of tendons, the texture of my skin, the subtle crackle of movement in my joints. “He’s online,” a voice said, pulling me out of my thoughts. It was a woman’s voice, calm and measured but tinged with something—relief? Pride? I turned my head toward the sound, though the motion felt un...