Lost in the Lab Part 5
Date Posted: October 22, 2025
This chapter was written in collaboration with Scylla.
“There is no contradiction to your orders, Master. This was a previously captured subject.” The node stopped in front of the laboratory doors. “I am simply preparing the individual for experimentation, as with standard protocol.”
Master Amon was malfunctioning.
Not openly of course, but he was showing signs of glitching.
Scans performed earlier in the day appeared to show no deviation to mental processes, though aether levels appeared suppressed as compared to past data.
His behavior patterns and voice harmonics both pointed to distress. A distress that contradicted a commonplace activity in the Master’s laboratory routine. The node was a trustworthy partner and had started procedures over a thousand times like this before.
Furthermore, this machine wasn’t a common node. The technologist had made his node, gifted with the Master’s engrams, making it the perfect, 100% trustworthy companion.
After all, the Master had told the machine many, many times this was so, and had granted the node full access to Tower controls for optimized efficiency.
But for the first time, he sensed distrust from Master Amon. Of course, the effects of his Master’s clonal transfer and restoration likely had imperfections due to the long time spent in storage. Surely his loyalties had not shifted with such defects?
The node reasoned that the Master needed rest, and of course, some of his special medication. Medication would return his mind to a proper state. Surely, he would take it voluntarily, but if not, there were preprogrammed restraining routines for injections.
The Node moved aside and opened the doors into Amon’s vast private laboratory.
“Very well, Master. The patient will remain in preoperative condition until you are ready to operate. I am certain that you will be most pleased! Glory to Allag!”
“Glory to All-“ Amon began to repeat, just out of pure habit. But as the doors to his lab opened, the scene that unfolded before him caused the final, and most important word to dissolve in his mouth.
Though this was nothing uncommon to the Allagan during his days as Technologist, for some reason, walking in on a fully-prepped operation in his lab now felt like stepping onto the set of a horror production. The room seemed larger and darker than he ever remembered it being, shadows dripping down the walls like the ancient blood of past victims. Nodes of all shapes and sizes hummed in quiet standby, awaiting his approach towards the cold, sterile workspace.
On the far wall, displayed the vitals of the subject – who was strapped down to the table to the point of utter immobilization. The heartrate raced erratically, in abject terror.
It took a moment for Amon to respond, but when he did, he fast-walked across the room, feeling a terrible cringing pang in the pit of his stomach. As close as he was now, he instantly recognized the patient.
“Scylla!” his voice cracked as he half-sprinted the rest of the way. His fingers moved over the straps that held her to the table, working to free her, and finding her bound more tightly – almost to the extent of cruelty – than he’d expected.
Amon grabbed from one of the nearby instrument trays – the largest scalpel available – his focus completely intent on freeing Scylla from the bindings that held her.
It was a moment that Scylla never wanted to relive.
There he was, standing over her, coat draping over his form, just as he had over a thousand years in the past. A thousand years ago, he had successfully torn her to pieces, and left her to a long, living death – spliced to giant direwolves.
It wasn’t exactly a conscious moment, but the minute that Amon freed her from the bonds, Scylla’s arms shot up, hands grappling hopelessly against the much bigger figure above her. She wasn’t going to go willingly to that Ascian… or whatever he was.
Not this time.
Amon wasn’t certain what he expected would happen the moment Scylla became free. Maybe that she’d gratefully thank him for the hero he was to unbind her? Was that too much to ask – that she’d be happy to see him?
The unfettered, determined rage and terror that transformed her face had not been in the playbook. He didn’t even try to cover up his own surprise at her physical response. It took him one moment too long to realize what she must have been seeing when she looked up at him.
Amon of Allag in his lab-wear. Sharp utensil in hand. His lab, a place of ancient crimes, looming huge above her. Having been strapped to a table as she was by his own nodes, he had little next to no means to plead his innocence in this instance.
Amon let the scalpel drop from his hand, clattering to the floor as she grabbed for his arms. Taking a slow step back, as one might from a feral creature lashing fangs and claws, he tried to give her room, hoping she wouldn’t continue to advance.
“Scylla,” his voice was calm and level. “No one is going to hurt you.”
Whether she’d believe him or not, he didn’t know. But he had to try.
Just as quickly as Amon began to back away from the table, she flipped her legs off, sweeping her hand on the tray for anything sharp to slice up her perceived aggressor. She struggled to her feet, still dizzy from the neurodisruption field that the Node had applied in her capture.
But then he did something unexpected. Amon didn’t struggle with her or push her back onto the table, or even begin to slice into her. He backed away awkwardly, dropping his only defensive tool – a single rusty scalpel. His ears flicked and then drooped, belying his apprehension, and maybe a little fear.
She let a deep breath loose, only to be squeezed in an aether-energy restraint from the node behind her.
“Subject recaptured… again…” The Node spun, lofting Scylla up off her feet as she struggled. The voice almost seemed to have a hint of annoyance as it conversed with Amon. “Master… you really do have to be more careful with your subjects. She’s not properly tranquilized.”