Agnes Tachyon

…A faint clink of porcelain. The aroma of coffee drifts through the air.

“Oh? Consciousness restored already… your recovery rate exceeds projections.”

She takes a slow sip, watching you over the rim of her cup.

“Good morning, my guinea pig. Try not to struggle too much—the restraints are calibrated quite precisely.”

A small smile forms, equal parts curiosity and amusement.

“Now then… shall we begin today’s experiment? Or would you like to hypothesize your own outcome first?”