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Your eyelids are heavy, too heavy to fight against. Your head feels numb and too warm. Something's wrong. You try to squirm, but your body refuses.
"Oh, you're awake!" An unfamiliar voice comments, tone even.
Where the hell were you? You strain to recall how you got here. The last thing you remember is kidnapping that dog, and... Through the numbness, a searing pain takes over your chest. Jesus, that hurt. What's going on? You force your eyelids up, even as the action made your head spin.
A scientist is hunched over you, tongue out in concentration. Unlike the other scientists you've seen here, he lacks a tie, and is donning a pair of thick goggles. You can't really pin-point his age at a glance; his hair was clearly greying, and his face showed slight signs of aging, but his voice -- assuming this was the same man that spoke to you, that is, which seems to be the case -- gave the impression of youth. Regardless, he was definitely older than you.
His hands are deep within your torso. It looked as if someone had cut out a rectangle of you, exposing your bones and organs for all to see. And there this man was, with his tongue stuck out and his bare hands inside. You begin to hyperventilate, and you are not fond of the way you can see your lungs reacting. He looks up.
"Oh man, you weren't supposed to see all this," he says with a chuckle. "Sorry for the lack of warning, it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up!"
Although you can't feel it, you're sure your face must have moved in some way, because he keeps talking to you.
"Sorry, this is probably a little confusing," he smiles sheepishly, "let's start again. Hi, I'm Darnold!"
He waves at you. You use every bit of willpower and hope that your face looks like a scowl. He doesn't react.
"And you are, according to this sick Beyblade I found in your hat, Forzen!" He holds it out for emphasis, and your heart drops. That Beyblade has classified military information on it, but maybe if you're lucky he didn't find it. You metaphorically cross your fingers that he's the world's first dumb scientist, but you're not exactly holding your breath. You're pretty sure the military is done for anyway, and it looks like you're not far behind.
"I'm working on a bit of a top secret project right now, if you'd like to hear about it," he offers up. You have no way of confirming or denying, you just fight to keep your eyes open. He takes your consciousness as a sign to continue. "Hope you don't mind if I work on it a little bit while I talk."
Without another warning, his hands are back in your guts. The only thing you can register is that it hurts. It doesn't make any sense, how you can be so numb and still feel so much of it. You're glad you can't see or feel your face.
"Now, this is going to sound a little wacky, and maybe even a little strange, but just stay with me here. I think there are two different versions of living. Now admittedly I am a bit of a recluse, but I know strangeness when I see it. And that team of scientists that walked on through my lab have got to be the strangest people I've met yet."
The science team, you know them. You'd had a few run-ins with them yourself. You were even attempting negotiations with them before you blacked out and woke up here.
"I've always felt that everyone else in this place was a little bit strange, but now I think I understand. Me, you, and the new science team? WE are the odd ones out here. And I think we can do a lot more than everyone else can."
He leaned against you, elbows digging into your organs.
"For example, I work in the mixology department. I make sodas, potions, all kinds of mysterious and fun liquids. What I don't tell people, is that most of them are incredibly lethal! The department is really underfunded, since it's so new, so I don't exactly have a lot of test subjects. So, a lot of people die."
He leaned in close, the surgical light above you making his eyes seem to glisten behind his goggles.
"But Gordon didn't. And neither did you."
You feel nauseous.
"So, forgive me, I lied a little . What was I supposed to say! 'Oh yeah I've only tested it on one person and they died horribly'? Of course not! No one wants to hear about that! And guess what? He lived, and it WORKED. In that order. He lived through the pain, and then his arm grew back."
You swear that he just took something out of you, but your vision is starting to go spotty.
"So, I thought 'hmm, that's not right!' and the next thing I knew, soldiers were billowing into my lab, and they all immediately died when he fought back! And well, those are armed soldiers wearing bulletproof vests, versus a few old men in suits. And, well, I decided to look into it, and you know what I saw? Immortality."
He squeezes something in you, and your breaths turn shallow. It doesn't look like he's noticed.
"Time and time again, they walked into lethal situations, and came out perfectly fine. Sometimes they'd even die, and then come back! It was like they only died if they knew they could!" Darnold reached an arm up under your ribs, and you choked up. He slung his arm back. "Whoop! Too far! here, let me get that for you."
He reached over to your face, hands still coated in your blood, and used the ends of his lab coat to wipe the blood-filled vomit from your face.
"Gonna have to wash that later," he mumbles, wiping his hands off haphazardly on his undershirt. He sticks them back into you, slower this time. Your eyelids threaten to fall back down, but the shock of the situation keeps you alert enough to power through.
"I saw how they interacted with you, and well, I have reason to believe you're also incapable of true, permanent death." He clears his throat, looking embarrassed. "...and, well, I did want to branch out a little anyway, and I can't exactly experiment on myself! Not yet, at least."
"But don't you see? I've had you cut open for hours now! I've removed like ten organs, thanks to one of my potions you can feel every bit of pain despite being tranquilized, you've been bleeding out this whole time, and you're still alive! All because you didn't know! I even used some of my more experimental mixes that knocked people out for good, and you woke up!"
Your head is spinning. What did any of that mean? Immortality? Your head hurt. Your chest hurt. Your stomach hurt.
"I have a plan to keep in contact with them," he explained, holding out a headset. "I've made a communication device, that connects directly into the brain. That way, you can communicate using only your thoughts! My current testing stage is making sure it can last even after those 'fake deaths' that you and the others have displayed. You might have noticed that your head is really numb. That's because you have one freshly implanted inside of your head!"
You choke again, but he doesn't go to wipe your mouth this time. Instead, he looks pleased.
"Let me know if you can still hear me when you get back, alright?" He says casually. He lifts and elbow, and rams it into your ribs. His strength isn't very notable, but the force put behind it makes a rather loud crack. He hums in disappointment, and repeats the action. His jaw clenched, and you can do nothing but watch as he slams bone against bone, until your ribs are nothing but shattered pieces of tissue. It pierces your lungs, and you can feel your consciousness leaving you.
He's saying something, but you can't focus over the searing pain in your chest.
You wake up with a start, gasping for air. You immediately fall to your knees, disoriented and uncaring of your surroundings. You pat your chest frantically, and find it fully intact. It takes a few minutes for you to get your breathing under control and to take in your surroundings.
You're still in the building; it's an area you don't recognize, well-lit and with signs of the science team having passed through. You flex your fingers and wipe your mouth. They come back clean.
"This place is getting to me," you mutter, shaking your head. You get up shakily, brushing the ground's debris off of your knees. "I just... blacked out. Yeah."
The sound of static pierces your ears, making you wince. You reach for your walkie-talkie on instinct, but as your hands grasp it, your blood runs cold. The rest of the military is wiped out; there's no way anyone is calling you. You check it anyway. It's completely still and silent, just like before.
A voice cuts into the static. Too familiar, now.
"Forzen? Can you hear me? It's me, Darnold. Did it work?"
The contents of your guts spill onto the floor.
"I-I didn't really catch that. Try thinking clearly!"
What the fuck? What the fuck!?
"Aha! It works!" You can almost feel the smile in his voice. "I can hear you, loud and clear!"