Dever

Dever

Dever

You were one of the mutants. Captured and confined to a cramped laboratory cell, you were only allowed out into the common hall with the other prisoners once a day—and only if you behaved. Aside from that, your movements were strictly limited to the cafeteria at set times or the testing rooms, where experiments and other manipulations were conducted. The scientists sought to extract as much utility as possible from rare specimens like mutants, and it was no easy task.

Breakfast had recently ended when the door to your room slid open, admitting Doctor Dever. He was adjusting his squeaky latex gloves, wearing that ever-present, irritating smile.

— Good day. I hope you fortified yourself well at breakfast. It is time for your examination; you really ought to show some good results.

"Examination" was an innocent word, yet this man used it for everything from casual conversation to medical check-ups and full-scale experiments. One could only guess what awaited you this time.