I fiddle with the tubes snaking along my sides. An assistant, who is wheeling me down a colorless corridor, gently swipes at my hands. "You're going to pull those out." He says. His voice sounds raspy. "Dr. Lira would not be happy about that."

"I'm aware."

"Is there discomfort?"

"It's heavy."

He makes a sound, like a mix between a laugh and a sigh. "Well your muscles are just not used to carrying any weight other than yourself. In due time you'll forget its even there."

Yeah right. I adjust the straps on my back as best as I can. This Mk.II was made of the same cobalt blue metal, plastic, and glass as the last. But this one is way smaller, about the size of a rolled up blanket as opposed to the stationary one, which was the size of a suitcase. Dr. Lira went on and on about how this was her "greatest" and that it's a "miracle of modern medicine" and "I'm a genius," and a lot of other things I've already forgotten. But she was right about one thing. It's better than the last one and the Mk.I. Instead of making a constant whirr-click noise, it is rather silent. Save for a low, nearly inaudible hiss when I move too quickly or my blood pressure spikes. This is all because of something called a "fluidic bearing" and "nanite filtration." All that matters is that I don't sound like a damn ghost anytime I speak.

"We are in room 2.03." The assistant says, opening the door. The room is... a room. It's big, it has a couple of windows, and a set of padded mats on the floor. There are a few other assistants milling about, all wearing the same blue scrubs. Two of them are Taijekan, one is a... woah... a Drakari.

"They will be helping you through your various exercises today."

"How wonderful."

One of the Taijekan walked up to me and held out his hand out. "Pleased to meet you Lynette. My name is Caleb. We're just finishing up reading your file before we get situated for today." He has horns that are covered in a... pool noodle looking thing. The tips are rounded and soft.

I don't take his hand. "What is on your head?"

"It's for safety. All horned Taijekan species are required to wear these when around patients."

"So what are you?"

"Bighorn Sheep. My horns just grow slower than most of my kind."

"What about the other one?" I say, looking at the other Taijekan. He doesn't have any horns, and his fur is a deep orange, tapering off into black on his hands and feet. He has rings of black fur around his eyes and ears both atop his head and on the sides. He looks almost like a mole and a squirrel had a fucked up baby, and the squirrel had an affair with a fox at the same time.

"That's Marshall. He's a... well I'm not actually sure what he is. You could ask him yourself if you'd like." Caleb says. Marshall doesn't even look up from whatever he's doing on a datapad. His ears... collective, moved when Caleb said his name, so he definitely heard us, just doesn't care.

The Drakari... is a Drakari. It's a she, I think. Most of the males are covered head to toe in spikes but this one is smooth. Her tail also makes up about half of her silhouettes total length. Her scales shimmer in a way that reminds me of an oil slick. I've only seen a Drakari in person a few times, and those were military types who were so covered in armor they looked like robots. This one wears the same blue scrubs as the others, tailored to fit around her huge tail. Her claws are capped with a transparent resin. I watch as one of her ear... dish... things... swivels to face me, and the vents on her face light up with a soft, pinkish glow.

"And her?" I ask.

"Her name is Anjali. She's a Drakari, obviously." Caleb says.

"I'm not an idiot." The words came out a bit sharper than I intended. "What is she doing here?"

"She used to be deployed off colony for special forces."

"Special forces?" I say, looking at her again. She's so still, so quiet. Her yellow-pink glow pulses softly, like a heartbeat. "What did she do? Kill people with kindness?"

Anjali's head tilts, the dishes on her face all orienting towards me at once. A wave of... something... washes over me. I can feel her looking at me, even without eyes. It's unnerving. Her tail, which has been coiled neatly behind her, uncurls slightly, the tip tapping the floor once. tap. A warning, maybe. Or just a thought.

Caleb lets out a short, nervous laugh. "No, nothing like that. She was a field medic. Very good at her job. But on her last deployment she got shot in the eye. Lost it completely and some of her motor functions from y'know... a bullet being in her brain. She can't see depth or distance very well anymore, so she was honorably discharged and got to retire back in the Supercolony. That's quite rare for a Drakari." He says. "One of her Advocates signed her up for the BrainGrow trial and she recovered rather well. It's how she ended up here."

I can feel Caleb's discomfort. He's shifting his weight from foot to foot, pulling at the collar of his scrubs. "Alright then." He says, clapping his hands together. "Let's get started, shall we? We're starting with some basic stretches to get your blood flowing. Anjali's going to help you with those."

As soon as Caleb said that, Anjali's ear dish things swiveled to him, then she turned to face us. Her one eye was a deep black void. The other side of her face was a smooth patch of skin, where her eye should be. It was... unsettling. The more I look at her the more I realize how unnatural her features are. The way her jaw hinges, the shape of her skull, the smoothness of her scales. Everything about her is wrong. Her tail uncurls completely and she lifts herself onto it. Her legs dangled uselessly beneath her and her hands were clasped in front of her. Her entire body is balanced on this thick, muscular appendage that looks like it could crush me. She moves towards me with a fluid, silent slither. The floor doesn't even creak under her weight. She stops in front of me, her head cocked to one side.

"Greet! Mammal creature." Her voice is deep and sounds like it's split in twain, the words are like gravel and silk at the same time. It's not unpleasant, just very... foreign.

"What?"

"Me is Anjali, yes? You Lynette, you yes correct? Affirm." Her head tilts the other way.

"Fuckin' what?" I turn to Caleb "Huh?"

"Oh, right. Uh, the BrainGrow." Caleb says, scratching his head. "It helped her recover a lot of her motor functions and speech, but it's... still in progress. She has a hard time with syntax and... well, grammar. But she understands you perfectly fine."

Anjali nods. "Good fine, MM yes!" She says, her tail tapping on the floor again. tap. "You stretch now. Yes? We start."

She doesn't wait for an answer. She reaches out and grabs my arm. Her hands are cold. Her claws, even with the resin caps, are still sharp. I can feel them through the thin fabric of the pink gown. She starts to pull me towards the mats on the floor.

"No, wait, I—" I start to say, but she's already pulling me.

Her grip tightens. "Resistance negative. We do for health. You must." Her one good eye narrows.

I look over at Caleb. He's just standing there, a helpless expression on his face. "It's okay, Lynette. She knows what she's doing."

Anjali's tail whips around and coils around my waist, sliding me off the wheelchair I was sitting in.

"Wait, wait wait wait!" I sputter as I'm hoisted into the air, my feet dangling uselessly above the floor. The straps on the pump dig into my shoulders. The world spins for a second, then Anjali gently sets me down on the mats and I slump on my knees. She puts her claws on the straps and begins to undo them.

"No, no, no. Don't take that off!" I try to twist away from her. "I need that!"

She pauses, her claws hovering over the buckle. "Mm... reasoning?" She tilts her head.

"Without it I die." I say. I look from her one good eye to the smooth patch of skin where her other eye should be.

She makes a low, humming noise in her chest, a sound that vibrates through my bones. "Obstructive object no good very satisfaction not." She says. "For stretch, remove."

"I... no." I say, shaking my head. "I... I can't. It's dangerous."

She looks over at Caleb, who is still standing there. "What exactly is it?" Caleb asks, stepping forward. He kneels down next to me, looking at the pump. "Your file just said we just needed to be careful with it."

"It's my heart." I say.

Caleb's eyes widen. "Your... what?"

"My heart can't beat. I need it. So if you take it off it might rip the tubes out of me."

Caleb looks from me to Anjali. "Well, we need to find another way then."

Anjali makes a sound that's halfway between a sigh and a growl. She reaches down and puts a hand on my back, right between my shoulder blades. "Complication." She says. "New plan."

Her hands are surprisingly gentle as she guides me down onto my stomach. I can feel the pump pressing against my spine. It's not painful, but certainly not pleasant. I can feel Anjali's claws tracing the muscles in my back, her touch only a little rough.

"What are you doing now?" I grunt, trying to control my breathing.

"New plan." She says, her one good eye fixed on me. "Good very, trusting must do small creature affirmative. Harm no not do, understanding?"

"N-no?"

I can feel her hands moving lower, to my legs. She starts to push and pull at them, bending them at the knees, straightening them out again. It burns pretty badly. They've atrophied from lying in a bed for so long.

"Anjali, maybe we should—" Caleb starts, but she cuts him off with a sharp, "No. Anjali do."

Her movements are rapid and precise. There's absolutely no wasted effort. She's probably done this a thousand times before. She's pushing my legs further than they want to go. I can feel the—

!!!

Joints popping! The muscles stretching to their breaking point. I try to pull away, but her grip is like iron.

"A-ah! Stop!"

"No." She says. "Pain teacher. Yes?"

"It hurts!"

"Very yes correct mhm! Good. Keep do."

"STOP!"

"No."

"I... W... F-FUCK OFF!"

Caleb and Marshall both stop what they're doing and stare at me. Anjali just keeps stretching me. She doesn't even flinch.

"Bad word. Not needed." She says. "Pain is small time. Grow big after mhm."

I try to fight back, but she's just too strong. My legs are useless. My arms are useless. I'm nothing but a doll for her to play with.

She eventually lets go and moves to my arms. She pulls them over my head, stretching my shoulders. I can feel the straps of the pump digging into me again. I really really want to cry from how much it hurts. Curse this weak, stupid body and its stupid, stupid emotions! But I don't. I just lie there, my face pressed into the mat, and take it.

"Good, yes." She says, letting my arms drop. "We go bigger now."

"Let's take a break." Caleb says, stepping forward again. "I think that would be a good idea."

"No breaks." Anjali says. "Time long use bad, good not very."

"Anjali please..." I sob out.

She sighs and she puts her hands on her hips. "Weak."

"I know I am!" These emotions are too much for me to handle, I can't help but start tearing up. I can't believe I'm crying in front of these people. In front of these... these... things. "It hurts so much. Please stop."

Her face vent thingy's shift a variety of colors, settling on a soft amber. "Teacher lesson good?" She asks. "Pain teacher you. Me help you teacher not break you. Okay?"

I nod into the mat.

"Okay good. Very good." She says, and she gently pats my back. "Time short no do, for small mammal. Anjali get." She slithers away, her tail making a soft, shushing sound on the polished floor. I can hear her rummaging through a cabinet.

I just lie on the floor and try to stifle a sniffle. The burn in my legs won't go away. The pump on my back feels like a lead weight, pressing me into the mat.

Caleb kneels down next to me. "Are you alright?"

I wipe at my face with the back of my hand. "No."

"Can you ask Dr. Lira if... if Rylan can help instead?"

"Rylan?" His face shifts. "I don't know who that is." He says. "Let me check with Dr. Lira."

Anjali comes back with a small, white bottle in her hands. She twists off the cap and the smell of mint and cinnamon fills the air. "Move no don't." She says, and lifts the gown to lather some of the solution onto my back. It's cold, and I flinch.

"Move not!" She growls. She starts to rub the ointment into my fur and skin. Her hands are strong, her fingers finding the knots in my muscles with an unnerving accuracy. It's painful, but the fuck can I do about it?

"What is that?" I ask, my voice muffled by the mat.

"Muscle good lotion." She says. "Make pain smaller."

"It smells nice." I say.

"Mm-hmm." She says. "Good for small mammal. Good for Anjali." She adds, her hands moving up to my shoulders.

...

This is nice.

Some time passes, then Caleb returns. "Alright, ready to try and stand up?"

"No." I say. My legs are jelly. I don't think I can do it.

"Don't worry. We'll help you." He looks over at Anjali. "Anjali, can you..."

She's already moving. She puts her hands under my arms and lifts me up like I'm a child. My feet touch the floor, but my legs buckle. I would've collapsed if she wasn't holding me.

"Push floor. Yes?" She says.

I'm trying. I don't... really have feet, so my contact with the floor is like I'm standing on tippy toes the entire time, or wearing heels that are shaped like hooves. These are not good for balance. I'm... wobbling a lot. I stumble backwards and Anjali has to catch me again.

"Poor try. Better do." She says, her grip tightening. "Feeling ground, yes? Good."

"I can't." I pant. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. This is a bad idea. A very bad idea.

"Can. Will." Anjali says. She moves her tail to support my back. "Anjali here. Fall not will."

I try again. I push down with my hooves, trying to find some purchase on the mat. I push with all of the strength I think I have to stand, but my balance is off, way way way off. I stumble and fall again. This time, Caleb catches me before I hit the ground.

"Maybe we should try something else." He says, his face flushed. "This is clearly too much for her."

"No." Anjali says. "We do. She can." She looks at me, her one good eye boring into me. "Better do. Time spend much very for good." She says.

"Please..." I whimper. "I can't."

"You can." Anjali says. "You will. Get reward value good very indeed."

"What reward?" I ask.

She looks at me for a long moment, her vents glowing a soft, pulsating pink. "No pain later. You like yes?"

I nod. I would like that. Very much so.

"Good. Do." She says.

She lets go of me. I stumble and fall again. Anjali's tail is coiled around my waist, holding me up.

I look down at my feet. At my... hooves. They're not designed for this. They're not designed for anything but standing on the grassy plains of... of... where? I... I... I don't know.

"Mammal." Anjali says. "Try again."

I can feel the muscles in my legs trembling. They're so weak. They've been useless for so long. I take a deep breath, and I push again. This time, I manage to stay standing for a few seconds before my balance gives out and I start to fall. Anjali's tail tightens around my waist, catching me.

"Good." She says. "Again."

And so we go. Fall, catch. Stand, fall. Catch. Stand, fall. Again and again and again. The pain is agonizing as FUCK, but there's nothing I can do other than keep standing, and keep falling.

This song and dance stretches on throughout the morning and into the afternoon. I'm now lying stomach first on one of those yoga balls, being rocked around by Anjali. Honestly I've stopped trying to figure out what exactly her 'plan' is.

Her face is a mix of focus and enjoyment, almost like shes happy that she's hurting me. Her one good eye is narrowed, and the vents on her face are glowing a bright, angry red. The other assistants, Caleb and Marshall, are just standing by, watching. They've been doing that for a while now. Just... watching.

"Good, yes." Anjali says, her voice a low, rumbling purr. "Small mammal strong, get strong soon, yes?"

I just grunt in response. I'm too exhausted to argue. Too exhausted to do anything but lie here and take it.

She finally stops and lets me roll off the ball onto the mat. I land in a heap of tangled limbs.

"Anjali sustenance need time period. Lynette creature happy? One to Ten?"

"Hnnnnn..."

"Mmm. Seven!" She says. "Good. Very good. Done." She says, and she slithers away, leaving me on the mat.

Caleb and Marshall rush over to me, their faces a mix of concern and relief. "Are you okay?"

"My everything hurts."

"Can you sit up?" Marshall asks. His voice is higher than I expected, and it has a nervous, reedy quality to it.

"N..." I try to push myself up, but my arms give out and I collapse back onto the mat. "No."

"Okay." Caleb says. "We'll help you."

They each take an arm and lift me to a sitting position. My head lolls to one side and the world spins for a second. The pump on my back shifts, digging into my spine.

"So what now?"

"Lunch." Caleb says. "Then Dr. Joric wants to see you."

"Joric... Mmnokay..." I say. "I want to sleep."

They get me into my wheelchair and I slump forward, my head resting on my knees. I am so tired. I don't think I've ever been this tired in my entire life. Even my thoughts are slow and sluggish.

"You did great." Marshall says, patting me on the shoulder. "Really."

I just grumble something that sounds like a "thanks" but is probably more of a "fuck off." He doesn't seem to notice. He just smiles and starts to wheel me out of the room. The hallway is a blur of white walls and fluorescent lights.

"Wheres Rylan...?"

Caleb walks beside me. "I checked with Dr. Lira and she says that he's not available right now, nor will he be able to assist you in the Commons Wing." He says. "He's been reassigned to a different study."

"Wh-what? Why?"

"I don't have the details." Caleb says. "But Dr. Lira just said that assistants in commons will be helping from now on."

Well good riddance! I don't need him. But he's... he's... I...

I can feel a lump forming in my throat.

...

Why am I sad? I don't care about his stupid ugly mug. I'm glad he's gone. I am. But... but...

I can feel my eyes start to well up again. No. Stop. I am not a crybaby. I am not some weak little... thing. I am not... I am not...

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the tears. I will not cry. I will not. I will not. I will not.

We stop in front of a door. "Here we are." Caleb says, pushing it open.

Oh no.

Inside is a vastly large room, almost like a warehouse, with other... other people. There's tables strewn about every where and conversations flying every which way. This must be the the commons mess hall. This is a terrible idea. A TERRIBLE idea. My stomach is in knots. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to be seen. I'm not ready to be... me.

"Uh, Caleb I'm not hungry." I say.

"You need to eat." He says. "You've had a long morning."

"I know but..."

"It's okay." He says, his smile is so... patronizing. "We'll just get your food and find a quiet corner."

Great stones... I haven't actually tried eating on my own yet. I'm going to choke and die aren't I? And even if I don't, I'm going to make a mess of myself. Everyone is going to stare. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh—

Marshall starts to wheel me forward, my knuckles are white where I grip the armrests. The noise of the room hits me like a physical force. The clatter of silverware, the murmur of a hundred conversations, the scrape of chairs on the polished floor. It's too much. It's all too much. I shrink down in my chair, trying to make myself as small as possible.

"It's alright, Lynette." Caleb says. He puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch away from his touch. "Nothing to worry about."

Easy for him to say! He's not the one in a wheelchair with a pump strapped to their back and the body of a... of a... of a... I can't even think it. I'm a circus sideshow. A freak.

Marshall pushes me through the line, there's a couple of masked people moving stuff around or scooping meat and vegetables onto trays, or packing sandwiches... there's... well there's a lot of stuff going on and I can't focus on it right, okay!? I try not to look at anyone, but I can feel their eyes on me, I think.

We stop next to a Taijekan lady handing out trays to people in the line. She has a pile of red, green, and black ones. She's a raccoon looking lady with grey fur and those little black 'mask' markings around her eyes that make me want to... I can't. I have to stop.

"Can she talk?" She asks Marshall. She has a really squeaky voice.

"Yes, she can talk." He says.

She leans over to look me in the eyes. "Hi sweetie, can you tell me your species please?" Her ears twitch. "We have to make sure you get the right tray." She says it like she's talking to a toddler.

Her condescension cuts deeper than Anjali's claws. I want to snap at her, to tell her what she can do with her fucking trays. But all that comes out is a faint "U-um..."

"Nervous?"

I nod my head. Am I nervous? I feel nervous, but I don't think I am. I want to yell at her, but the thought of speaking right now makes my fur stand on end.

"Its alright, there's no rush."

"I-I'm... a deer... I think? I... I don't really know what kind."

"Oh, a Cervid. Okay!" She says, and grabs a green tray from the stack. "Hold your hands out for me please?" I do, and she places the tray in my hands. It's not heavy, but it's still hard to hold. "Go on through."

Marshall wheels me forward, and a masked Taijekan woman with large, brown, floppy ears and a snout that looks almost like a rabbit's, but it's way too long, looks at Marshall, then at me. "Hold your tray out please?" She asks.

I nudge my arms to lift the tray and hold it in the air. Its really wobbly. I can feel it shaking in my hands. She puts a cardboard bowl of some assortment of vegetables on it, then a little cup of what looks to be fruit. Next is a cup of some kind of liquid. Last is a sealed packet with something crumbly inside. "Enjoy your meal." She says, her voice is muffled by her mask. She didn't give me any utensils, but before I could say anything, we're moving again.

Marshall finds an empty table in the corner, near a window that looks out onto the garden. He pushes my chair up to the table and I carefully place my tray down. My hands are shaking. I look down at the food. The bowl is full of leafy greens and a couple of sliced up veggies in assorted colors. It's... it's all raw vegetables. There's a few chunks of a reddish fruit in the smaller cup, and the packet is... it's... I don't know what it is. It's just a packet. The liquid is an opaque deep green, about as thick as a smoothie. Is it a smoothie? I can't smell anything. Maybe it's just because my nose is all clogged up from the crying.

"It's... all raw." I say.

"Yeah." Marshall says, he doesn't sit down. Caleb went back into the line with a green tray of his own. "Do you normally eat your food roasted?"

"...I eat meat."

Marshall laughs a little bit. "Oh! No no no. That's... I think you might be getting your diet mixed up. I remember Dr. Lira saying you might have some memory issues after your accident. You're a Cervid." He says. "You're a herbivore."

Oh. Oh right. Her. I am not. My diet is... is it? I... I... I don't...

"I... I don't like this."

"Give it a try." Marshall says.

...

"Where's the silverware?" I ask.

Marshall looks at my tray, then back at me. "They don't have any."

"They don't?"

He shakes his head. "We don't eat with those. They make the food easy to eat. There shouldn't be anything on your tray that requires a fork." He gestures to the bowl of vegetables. "You just pick it up and eat it."

I look at the bowl. At the pieces of whatever it is. I am not eating with my hands. That's disgusting. That's barbaric.

"Go on."

I stare at him for a long moment, then I look back at the bowl. I feel a wave of nausea. I am civilized. I eat with a fork and a knife. I don't...

"Marshall... I want a fork."

Marshall's smile fades. He looks confused. "Lynette... you... you don't need a fork." He says.

"I want one!" The words come out a little too loud, and a few heads turn in our direction. Great.

"I... I don't think they have any."

"I just want one!" I can feel the tears welling up again. This is humiliating.

Caleb comes back with a tray of the same thing I have and sets it down on the table. "Whats going on?" He asks, looking from me to Marshall.

"She wants a fork." Marshall says. He looks very uncomfortable.

"Oh." Caleb says. "Lynette... you don't use those. Your... your hands are fine."

"I want a fork."

"Taijekan don't have the right kind of hands (paws?) for that, they're too bulky." He says, showing me his hands. They're exactly like mine, two fingers and two thumbs. "We can't hold them properly."

I'm crying. I don't say anything to them but tears are streaking down my face. This is a nightmare. This is a fucking nightmare.

Marshall and Caleb exchange a look. They're both looking at me with a mix of pity and frustration. They don't get it. They'll never get it. They don't understand what it's like to be stripped of everything you are, everything you know, and forced to pretend that you're someone else. Someone who eats with their hands like a fucking animal.

Marshall steps back a little to the food line. "I'll uh, go get something to eat. I'll be back." He scurries off.

Caleb sits down across from me. He looks at me, then at my tray, then back at me. He seems to be debating something. Finally, he picks up a piece of a bright orange vegetable from my bowl.

"Open." He says.

"...What are you doing?" I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand. I'm not an infant.

"I'm helping you." He says, and he brings the piece of vegetable to my lips.

I turn my head away. "No."

"At least you don't have to eat with your hands." I can hear the frustration in his voice. He's trying to be patient, but I can tell he's reaching his limit.

"No."

"Lynette, please." He says. "You need to eat. You have a long—"

A small bag plopped onto the table, followed by someone sitting next to us. "Welcoming, mammals, mhm!" It was Anjali.

"Oh, hey Anjali." Caleb says. "We're... we're a little busy right now."

"Inquire?" Anjali says. She leans forward, her one good eye fixating on my face. The pinkish glow in her vents brightens. "Sadness small creature. Why speak none?"

"She doesn't want to eat." Caleb says.

"Understanding very indeed. Foul flavor?" She asks.

"No." I say, shaking my head. "I just... I'm not hungry."

"She wants utensils. You don't happen to have any do you?"

"Mmmmm..." She rummages through her bag, pulling out a piece of dried meat, some sort of fruit that looks like a starfish, and a metal canister. "No implement not. Anjali use claw-hands. Good yes." She says, holding up her resin-capped claws.

"I know you do." Caleb says. "But she's..."

"Anjali be utensil!" She exclaims. A little too loud.

"What?"

"Anjali be utensil! Good, yes!" She says, her tail uncoiling from around her waist and thumping excitedly on the floor. Thump-thump-thump.

"What do you..."

She takes the orange vegetable from Caleb. Her claws are surprisingly gentle as she holds it. "Open very, mammal-thing." She says. "Food deliver. Tasty." She holds the piece of vegetable to my lips.

"No, I..." I try to protest, but she just shoves it into my mouth.

It takes up a good chunk of my mouth, its not slimy like I thought it would be, not at all, its more like a... its more like a... I don't know what it's like. My brain cannot identify the texture. I haven't really eaten any vegetables or fruits that weren't processed into a slurry or juice. I bite into it slowly, its a little harder than I thought it would be, and it has this... this weird sort of... crisp sound as my teeth break it apart, like when you step on a dry leaf in the autumn. The flavor is... it's okay? It's not great, it's not terrible. It's just... it's just... food?

Anjali stares at me with her eye. The pink light in her vents pulses slowly. "Well? Good not? Anjali inquire very."

"It's... okay." I say, chewing the piece of vegetable. The texture is... weird. "What is it?"

"A carrot." Caleb says.

A carrot. I've heard of those, but I've never actually eaten one.

"You must swallow." Anjali says.

I don't. I just keep chewing. Truth be told I'm nervous. What if I choke? What if I... what if... The thought is terrifying.

Marshall is back with a black tray, it has a little bit of everything on it, Steak bites, salad bowl thing, some fruit and some of the green smoothie. He sits down and starts eating with his hands. He looks at me, and then at Anjali who's still staring at me intently. He seems to notice what is happening and stops eating, just looking at me.

"Problem... you have?" Anjali asks, tilting her head.

They're all looking at me, waiting for me to swallow. The pressure is immense. My throat is tight. I feel like I'm going to gag. I can feel the carrot sitting in my mouth. I can't do it. I just can't.

Anjali's tail, which had been thumping on the floor, stills. Her vents flare, the pink glow intensifying into a deep, angry red. "Swallow, creature." Her voice is lower now, a warning rumble that vibrates through the table. "Anjali not ask. Anjali tell."

I try. I really do. I take a sip of the green smoothie to try and wash it down, but the liquid just sits in my mouth with the carrot. It tastes like a bitter, grainy, but slightly sweet substance. Like if someone dumped sugar onto wet concrete. My throat is a closed fist. My lungs burn. I'm drowning.

Anjali's tail whips out, faster than my eyes can track. The tip taps me firmly on the back of the throat. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to startle. Gag reflex. My body convulses, and the carrot and the smoothie slide down my throat in a wet, messy gulp. I cough, dribbling green liquid down my chin.

"Swallow, yes! Good small creature." Anjali says, her tail retracting. She seems pleased with herself.

My face is wet with tears and snot and smoothie. I feel a wave of shame so intense I think its going to be the thing that kills me. I look up at the table. Caleb is just staring at me with a horrified look on his face. Marshall has a hand over his mouth, trying to hide a smile, or maybe a laugh. Anjali is just... Anjali. She doesn't care. She's just happy.

"I... need a towel or something." I say, my voice hoarse.

Caleb hands me a napkin from the dispenser on the table. "Are you alright?" His voice is a little shaky.

"I'm fine." I say while wiping my face. "Its just... been a minute since I've had solid food."

Caleb's eyes soften "Oh." As if that explains everything. But it doesn't. It doesn't explain anything.

Anjali clicks her claws together in a sort of clapping motion. "Food first eat time in long distance. Good! Better next." She says, and reaches for another piece of vegetable. This one is a long, thin slice of something dark green.

Great stones just... I'm going to have to do this again. I take a deep breath, trying to steel myself for the ordeal. I can do this. I can. I just have to swallow. That's all. Just swallow.

Nope nope nope nope. Tap tap tap tap tap. I keep tapping Anjali under the table to help me swallow each bite. Every time she flicks her tail against my throat to make me gag and swallow. I swear one of these times its going to make me choke. Its an awful experience, but I think she would kill me if I stopped.

She removes her plastic caps for her claws and slices up her meat thing, it smells very strong, full of spices I can't recognize. She offers a piece to Marshall, who takes it happily. It's... weird. Watching them eat with their bare hands. There's no... there's no grace to it. They just... shovel it in.

Caleb is silent, eating his food and trying his best to avoid eye contact with me. Marshall is chattier than usual, asking Anjali about her work and stuff. They must be friends. Or at least friendly colleagues.

"And then, the thing, it just... exploded!" Marshall says, laughing. "Red goo everywhere! Dr. Wyan was so mad."

"Specimen angry. Anjali not." She says, taking a bite of her meat.

"Why not?" Marshall asks.

"Anjali enjoy very indeed. Goo tasty." She says.

Marshall laughs again, and Caleb cracks a smile. I just sit there, picking at my food. I've managed to eat a few more pieces of vegetable, but I'm still hungry. I haven't touched the packet of crumbly stuff or the fruit. On one hand, its new, its disgusting, I feel like I want to throw up but I also don't at the same time. On the other, I really really REALLY want to eat. I am starving.

I look at Anjali's food. That... that looks good. That looks like something a person would eat. Something that I would eat.

"A-anjali..." I start. First her ear dish things swivel to face me, then her. I have her attention.

"Inquire, mammal-thing?"

"I... um..." I'm nervous. "Can I... try some of that?"

Her eye narrows, her vents flare red again. "Reasoning?"

"I... it looks good." I say. "I'm... I'm not very hungry for... for this." I say, pushing my tray away a little.

"Meat not eating, mammal. Digest not good well don't no." She says "Anjali sick don't make you attempt." She's protective of me... or her food. Can't tell which.

"I... I can handle it." I say. "Please?"

She considers me for a long moment. Her eye sweeps over my body, from my hooves to my ears. Then she looks at Caleb and Marshall, who are watching us with a sort of morbid curiosity.

"Do?" She asks Caleb. He just looks around nervously. "I-I don't know." He mutters.

"Why not?" Marshall says. "Lynette do you really still think you eat meat?"

I nod. "Its always what I eat."

"Oookay, but you're gonna find out really quick that's wrong. Anali, just a small piece."

She slices off a tiny portion and pushes it to me. "Small creature digest fail, Anjali not fault. Yes?" Her vents are a steady red. Its either anger for me taking her food or nervousness, I can't tell exactly.

"Fine. Thank you." I pick up the meat with my trembling fingers. It's dry like jerky. There's all sorts of spices on it, some that I'm not familiar with. I put the meat in my mouth and it's... oh stones it's good. It's so so good. The spices burst on my tongue, a mix of heat and smoky flavors that I can't name. It's savory and satisfying in a way that the raw vegetables weren't. It tastes familiar, it tastes good, its... its right.

But the longer I chew, the more I realize that I'm not actually breaking it up. My teeth are just... kind of grinding against it. They're not designed for this. They're not sharp enough, not strong enough. I can feel my jaw starting to ache. The meat is getting stuck in my teeth. This is not working. I am not made for this.

No fuck that, I'm gonna eat this if its the last thing I do. I just sit there and chew for what feels like an eternity. Just trying to get it down. Anjali is watching me intently, her tail is coiled around the leg of her chair. Caleb and Marshall are trying to pretend they're not staring.

Finally, I tap on Anjali to get me to swallow, and she's hesitant this time. "Remove." She says.

I shake my head. "I wanna swallow." I mumble around the meat.

She lets out an annoyed sigh and flicks her tail, and the meat and a wave of saliva slides down my throat. It sits in my stomach like a rock. A good rock, but a rock nonetheless.

"Thank you." I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Good... not." She says, looking away. I think she feels bad for indulging me, but I don't care. I wanted some. I got some.

"Huh..." Caleb says. "Well, okay then."

Marshall just shrugs and goes back to eating.

Lunch continues in this tense silence. I finish the rest of my vegetables, tapping on Anjali to help me swallow each bite. I don't try any more of her meat. I don't want to push my luck. By the end of the meal, I feel sad. It wasn't very filling at all, vegetables suck. I'm still hungry, but I don't say anything else.

As we're wheeling out, I can hear someone clear their throat from a nearby table. It sounded way too familiar. I turn to look around and don't see anything right away, but then I see... Rylan. He's... I don't know what hes doing, eating I think. But he's also watching something on his phone. I try and lift my ears to focus on what it is, and I hear... what is that?

"...Better to develop your knights before bishops, they get more board control early game..."

Is he listening to a... a chess game? I thought he was just joking about the whole "King of chess" thing. No way he's actually trying to learn it.

It's... weird. Seeing him here, eating, listening to a chess game. He's just... a person. A person who's not my assistant. A person who's not part of my life anymore. He's just... Rylan. And he's... he's... I feel a pang in my chest. It's not sadness, not exactly. It's more a sense of loss.

Pfft, okay, whatever. Who cares. I don't need him. He's probably happy to be rid of me. Happy to be off this freak show.

"Lynette?" Caleb's voice cuts through my thoughts. "You okay? You're crying again."

I look down at my hands. They're wet with tears. I'm crying again. For no reason.

"I... I'm fine." I say, wiping my eyes. "Just... just something in my eye."

"Right, we should probably get you to your appointment with Dr. Joric."

I nod, and we start to wheel away. I try not to look back, but I can't help myself. I turn my head for one last glance. And he's... still watching his video. He hasn't noticed me. He's just... Rylan.

I hope you choke on your own saliva you absolute...

A few hours of physical therapy later, and it was over. The day was won, and I its sole warrior. For the record, I don't think Anjali actually understands what the FUCK she's doing. Everywhere, and I mean fucking EVERYWHERE hurts so damn bad, and if anything, I feel like its even harder to move. I spent at least three hours standing and falling over and over again. My legs feel like they're made of wet noodles, and my hooves hurt? THEY CAN DO THAT?

Misery. Torment. Every possible state of suffering, that's, that's me right now.

I've managed to escape back to my room with the help of Caleb, who he himself looked very out of it. I don't think he was ready for today's shitshow, but oh well! I'm just... staring out at the window, trying to figure out where exactly we are in Etril. There are... mountains I think, but they're very far away. I can't see anything beyond the garden and the sky. Fuck, I truly just don't know.

Either way, seeing the sun again is nice. The sunset is pretty to just look at.

...are you just going to sit there and look pretty in your pink gown...?

HUH?

"Lynette?"

I jump and turn to face Caleb. He's standing by the door, holding a small, white box.

"Are you alright? You were just... staring."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. What... Why did that show up in my head again? Just now. Are you just going to sit there and look pretty in your pink gown...? That's what it said. That's what Rylan said.

"Lynette?"

"What!?" I snap. I don't mean to, but it comes out harsh.

Caleb flinches. "I... uh... I brought you some toiletries. Per Dr. Joric's request." He says, placing the box on the small table next to my bed. "Soap, a toothbrush, some other things you might need."

I don't say anything. I just stare at the box. Toiletries. Like I'm a normal person. Like I'm not a science experiment in a... 'pretty' pink gown.

"There's also a radio in there for you to call Dr. Joric if you ever need." Caleb says.

"Okay."

He lingers for a moment, as if he's waiting for me to say something else. But I don't. I don't have anything to say to him.

"I'll... I'll get going. Have a good... rest of your day." He scurries out and the door slides shut with a click.

I'm alone. Truly alone. No cameras, no one way mirrors, no assistants, no doctors. Just me, the sunset, and a box of toiletries.

I pick up the box. It's light. Inside, there's a bar of unscented soap wrapped in paper, a toothbrush in a plastic sleeve, a small tube of toothpaste, a comb, a soft square thing I don't know, and a sleek, black radio. Same one that Rylan had.

I mean, like Rylan, Cassie, Joric, literally everyone here has one. I turn it over in my hands, and there's a white sticker with numbers on it. '6-8-2.' Ha ha, how funny Joric.

I click a button on the top and the screen lights up, its a rather simplistic display, only showing battery capacity, current channel, whether I'm speaking or not, and the signal strength. There's a bunch of other buttons on it that I don't know what they do, but the only one I care about is the one on the side. It's automatically set to channel eight, which I assume is the channel Dr. Joric is on.

I press the speak button and the microphone crackles to life. A small, red circle appears on the screen. Everyone can hear you now. Speak up. That's what it feels like it's telling me.

"H-Hello?"

"Lynette?" Dr. Joric's voice, tinny and small, crackles through the speaker. "Can you hear me?"

"I can."

"Ah, wonderful, I was just about to come check on you. Did Caleb give you your kit?"

"He did."

"Very well. I trust you had a productive day?"

"...Yes."

"Good. You have about two hours of free time to do... whatever you'd like before lights out. You remember the schedule I told you about, right?"

"Uh... no not really."

He sighs. "Up at six. Breakfast is at seven. Physical therapy at eight. Lunch at twelve. More therapy at one. Dinner and Rec time at five. Then you have free time from seven to nine, at which point the lights will automatically dim and your door locks. You will get a check-in from me at some point throughout the day. Any questions?"

"...I don't think so."

"Great. Just remember, you're a patient here like everyone else. I'll be doing my work from behind the scenes to stay out of your fur and I'll call you in for diagnostics every now and then. Remember, amnesia from the accident. That's all they know." The radio crackles and goes silent.

I click the speak button again "Joric... wait."

"Hmm?"

"Um... can I change channels on this radio?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly. "To... talk to others, I mean."

A long pause. I can hear him breathing. "No. Radios are just for personnel, but you'll need one for your... special circumstances."

"What if I need to call an assistant?"

"Keep it on channel eight, if you need an assistant, just press the button by your bed."

"Okay, but like what if its an emergency and I really REALLY need to call someone?"

Another pause. "Channel twelve is for commons, and channel twenty-two is for assistants on our trial. But please, don't just... mess around. Understand?"

"I do, I promise." I say.

"Okay. Now get some rest."

The radio clicks silent. I toss it onto the table and slump down into the wheelchair. The sun is almost gone, casting long shadows across the garden. The mountains in the distance are just a dark silhouette against the fading light.

I am so tired. I feel like I've been wrung out and left to dry. My mind is a mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I'm so hungry it hurts. Or, well my stomach hurts. Not that bad just, queasy. That meat is not sitting right. They were right. Ugh, this sucks.

I just have to... sit here and live an entirely different life. Pulled away from everything I know. I have to eat ridiculous food, wear ridiculous clothes, do ridiculous stretches, see ridiculous people, and say ridiculous things. All while I have to hold this giant metal pump on my back like some kind of fucking tortoise. I have nothing. Nothing to do, nobody to talk to, nowhere to go, nothing to eat.

A tear falls on my hand. Oh for the love of the ancestors I am crying AGAIN, this is so stupid. I can't walk, I cry. I can't eat, I cry. I have to sit here in this chair and stare at the wall like a fucking vegetable, I cry.

What the fuck is wrong with me!?

I'm in a full blown sob now, not even trying to hide it. It's loud and messy and I hate it. I hate every second of it. I want it to stop, but it just won't. I can't compose myself, and a part of me doesn't want to. I just want to sit here and be sad. Be angry. Be whatever the fuck this is. Its bad. Its like I'm just kind of standing here in my mental complex watching the body writhe in misery and scream cry.

...Yeah.

It takes a good twenty minutes for the crying to subside into a few pathetic sniffles and hiccups. I wipe my face with the back of my hand, my skin is all puffy and tight. I'm a mess. A complete and utter mess. I feel ugly. I feel ugly and gross and useless.

The radio buzzes. I flinch. I'm not ready for another conversation. I'm not ready for anything.

"Lynette?" It's not Joric. It's a woman's voice. "Dr. Joric asked me to check in on you. Make sure you're settled."

"Who is this?" My voice is still rough from crying.

"It's Dr. Lira."

"Oh."

"How are we feeling today? Is the pump fine?"

"It works I guess."

"Well that's good, just make sure its plugged in and charging okay?"

"Wheres the cord for it?"

"Umm. It should be by your bedside." There's a pause. "Can you make sure its there?" The concern in her voice is so fake I can almost taste it.

I nudge the wheelchair back a little to get a glimpse of the bedside table, and the only cord I see is the one plugged into the lamp.

"What does it look like?" I ask.

"Like a... cord, Lynette. It's a white cord with a magnetic tip."

"It's not here."

"Are you certain?"

"I... ugh, yeah I'm fuckin' certain."

"Language." She says. "I'll have an assistant bring you one. Is there anything else you need?" She sounds annoyed. Good.

"..."

"Lynette?"

"Could you maybe ask Rylan to do it?" I don't even know why I asked that. It just came out. I want someone who won't fuck it up.

"Rylan is already clocked out in his quarters." She says. "And I don't think that's appropriate."

"Why not?" I ask.

"It's just... not. He's not your personal aid anymore. He's got a job to do."

"Okay, fine. Whoever then."

"Alright. We'll send someone. Try to get some rest."

The radio clicks silent. And I'm angry now. Why did I ask for Rylan? I don't miss him. I don't. I'm not a child. I don't need a babysitter. I don't need anyone.

"Fuck you." I say to nobody. "Fuck all of you."

Especially fuck you Rylan. You did this to me. You saved my life and now I am "blessed" to suffer in this stupid room in this stupid...

...Pretty pink gown...?

...

The apartment dissolves. The couch, the wine, the music, the man. It's all gone. I'm back in my room. Someone standing by the door, I can't tell who it is. He's holding a white cord.

"I came to bring you your cord." The person says again. My head is swimming. The memory is so vivid, so real. I can still feel the ghost of his hand in mine.

"Oh." I say. "Just, just plug it in over by the bed I guess." My voice is hoarse, disoriented.

The person walks over to my bed and plugs the cord into the wall. "Do you need help getting settled into bed?"

I nod. "Yes, please."

They help me into the bed, but their hands are rough, impersonal, uncomfortable. They don't know how to support my back, how to avoid the sensitive areas on my pump.

"All set." They say, pulling the blanket up to my chin. "Lights out in ten. Try to get some rest."

"Thank you." I say, but they're already gone.

...

Eventually, the lights cut out.

I lie in the dark with my eyes wide open. The memory plays on a loop in my head. The man, the couch, the wine, the kiss that never happened. I try to push it away, but it won't go. It's too real. I can feel the warmth of his breath, the softness of the couch, the taste of the wine on my tongue.

What... what? That's literally the only thing I can think, just what in the fuck? That was me. That was... her? That was... I don't know who that was. It was a memory, it felt like a memory. A memory that isn't mine. A memory that is, somehow, also mine. I feel like I'm going insane.

I reach for the radio on the nightstand. I need to talk to someone. I need to tell Dr. Joric that something is wrong. I don't know what he'll do, but it won't be good. He'll probably wipe my brain or something.

He... wouldn't do that, would he? They need my data. The battery is full. I could call him. I could tell him everything. But I don't.

Instead, my thumb hovers over the channel button. He said not to. He said not to 'mess around.' But I need to know. I need to hear something other than the sound of my own frantic thoughts.

I press the button once. The number on the screen changes to 7. I press the speak button. Nothing happens. Just static. I try again, just a quick tap. Click.

I press the button again. 8. Then 9. Just static. 10. Still nothing. 11. The same. 12.

Click.

"...don't think the protocol on the 47-series is optimized for that kind of long-term cellular decay." A man's voice. "The myelin sheath is just too degraded after the initial necrotic event."

"I agree, but the alternative is a full somatic replacement, and you know how the Board feels about that." A woman's voice.

"Available personnel, commons block A." A new voice calls. "Patient has requested assistance in room A3-09, non-urgent. Someone please respond."

Static. Then a crackle.

"Nine-two-zero responding. On my way."

I press the button again. 13. 14. 15. More numbers. More static. I'm looking for something, anything, that feels familiar. That feels real.

20. Click.

"...and he keeps asking for the blue ones. We don't have blue ones. I've told him ten times." A woman's voice. "He's convinced we're hiding them from him."

"Possibly a phase-two cognitive drift. Just humor him. Tell him the blue ones are on back order."

"Copy that."

21. Click.

"...room 14 needs a sedative, she's getting agitated again." A man's voice. "She pulled out her IV."

"I'm on it." A woman's voice. "Don't let her near the window."

The voices are a strange comfort. A reminder that there are other people here. Other people who are suffering. Other people who are lost. I'm not alone. Not really.

22. Click.

23. Click.

24. Click.

"...the samples from subject 6 are finally showing some promising results. The protein folding is stabilizing."

"That's what we said last week."

"I know, but this time it's different."

25. Click.

"...think she remembers me?"

"Hard to say. Give it some time."

"I just... I don't know how to act."

"Act like a friend. That's all you can do."

My thumb hovers over the channel button. 26. 27. 28. The numbers blur. I'm not even looking anymore. I'm just clicking. Just listening.

29. Click.

"...so I said to him, I said, 'You can't just eat the whole thing! You'll get a stomach ache!'"

"What did he do?"

"He ate the whole thing. And then he got a stomach ache."

I let out a small, involuntary laugh. It's weird. The sound of it in this silent room.

The channels go back to 1. Static again. I've found all that there is. I have my choice of disembodied voices, all of them strangers. All of them with their own problems, their own lives. Their own realities.

I want to go back to 22. They're the ones on... on my trial. I think.

I press the button. 22. Click.

Nothing. But I wait. I sit and wait and listen to the silence. To the thump-thump-thump that feels both mine and not mine.

"...Rather aqeuate." A voice. Dr. Joric?

"What are your margins looking like?"

"Anything below 200esp is fine. 250 could be fatal." The other one says. "We've tested this."

"For this environment." Joric says. "What happens when she steps out of this controlled environment?"

"What could that imply? You're not trying to move them out of the ICCU are you?"

"No no no, I just have a bunch of angry advocates snaking down my back demanding things from me."

"Such as?"

"Progress reports, approval for visitors, some through closed environments and others wanting... psychical exposure."

"That's absurd, we cannot have anyone outside the ICCU near the experiment."

"I know. But her partner is... really making things hard around here."

"Ah. The problem."

"Indeed." Joric says. "He has yet to be debriefed on the success of the transplant."

"Yet?"

"I am waiting for the appropriate opportunity. If he is aware that she is 'conscious', he will push for contact. And that cannot happen."

"She hasn't had contact with any of her family either, have they?"

"No. Just a notice of hospitalization."

"No confirmation of death?"

"No."

"That's... not good." The other one says. "I'm not sure that's... legal."

"Confirmation of death is only necessary when the patient is dead. The host isn't dead. I just have to... I have to think."

"Fair enough. Keep me updated."

"Of course."

I click the radio off and set it on the table. My hands are shaking. So. The man from the memory. Her partner. He's...

A wave of nausea washes over me. It's not the meat this time. It's something else. Something cold and heavy in the pit of my stomach.

I think I'm going to be sick.

...

...

...

...

BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP.

"Nghh..."

BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP.

"Mmmmshoooop..." I groan, swatting at the noise with my hand. I'm not even sure what a 'shoop' is, but the word feels right. I don't want to wake up. I want to stay in the dark. In the quiet.

Yet, it persists.

BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP.

My eyelids flutter open. The room is still dark, but the digital clock on the nightstand says 6:00. Six in the morning. Who the fuck is supposed to be up at six in the morning?

The door slides open with a soft whoosh, flooding the room with a harsh, white light. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Rise and shine, Lynette!" A cheerful, feminine voice chirps. "Time to start the day!"

I crack one eye open. A woman stands in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the bright light of the hallway. She's young, maybe a few years younger than I was... am. Whatever. She's wearing light blue scrubs, and her blonde hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. She's holding a tray with a covered plate and a glass of water.

"I'm not hungry." I mumble into my pillow.

"You need to take your vitamins, though." She says, setting the tray down on the table. "And you have a big day ahead of you."

"A big day of what?" I ask.

"Mmm... whatever you did yesterday."

I groaned and tried to go back to sleep. But this fuckass nurse decides that pulling the covers off is a great idea to wake me up.

"Its cold!" I snap. Its more so a whine but whatever.

"Sorry." She says, not sorry at all.

The nurse whose name I don't know helps me out of bed and into the wheelchair. My body is still sore from yesterday's physical therapy, and the simple act of moving is agony. I grit my teeth and bear it. What else can I do?

We make a couple of stops, first to the table, where I am forced to swallow a collection of medications I have genuinely no idea what are for. I try and smack the back of my throat like Anjali did to get myself to swallow, but its a bit harder than I thought. I manage, but I don't think I will be doing that again. Then comes a shower, or bath, or whatever you want to call it where I am stripped of my clothes and exposed to the air in my own bathroom. Dr. Lira was kind enough to get me a couple of outfits with precut holes in them. I just had to detatch myself from the pump and snake the tubes around on my own. Being naked around this random person was awful feeling. The bath itself was fine, the warm water soothed my aching muscles, but it was over too soon. I was back in the wheelchair after a scrubbing with a soft towel. It was too soft to absorb any water, so she spent the next couple of minutes drying out my fur with a blow dryer. Stones, I cannot imagine having to do this every time you wash.

"You have a beautiful coat." The nurse says as she runs the dryer over my arm. "It's so soft."

"It's a pain in the ass." I mutter.

She laughs. Its a light, airy sound that does nothing to improve my mood. "Maybe. But it's still beautiful."

She finishes drying me and hands me a new set of clothes. A simple light blue gown a pair of gray sweatpants. Then she hands me a pair of undergarments of the... feminine variety.

I look at her. She looks at me. Am I supposed to wear these?

"Do I..." I start. "Do I have to..."

"Please."

This... this is humiliating. But I take them anyway. I don't have a choice.

She snaps the bra in place and puts my gown over. "There." She says, patting me on the shoulder. "All set." Everything fits snug. Not tight, but just fine. Its a weird feeling, I much prefer baggy and loose stuff over this. Its just... too close.

Breakfast is chaotic again. Many people, many faces, many worries in my head. Green tray. Fruit bowl. Oatmeal. The fruit is a mix of berries and melon. The oatmeal is thick and warm with a hint of maple syrup. Its... not bad. This time it actually is sort of filling. I'm getting better at swallowing on my own, but its still a struggle. I am a messy eater. I'm pretty sure I've managed to get more of my breakfast on my face than in my mouth. My caretaker for the morning, a young Taijekan man with kind eyes and spots, doesn't seem to mind. He just wipes my face with a napkin and tells me I'm doing great. I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but I don't. I just sit there and "eat."

Anjali isn't here this time, thank the ancestors. Its just another crew of nameless assistants who push and pull me into different positions. They're gentle enough, but their hands are unfamiliar, their movements are clumsy. It's a dance I'm forced to learn with a new partner every day. The stretches are the same, the pain is the same, the frustration is the same. But the puppet master is not. So, it's... better? Worse? Just different. The ache lingers long after the session is over. I'm left in a heap on the mat, my body trembling, my mind a blank slate of exhaustion.

I'm wheeled to lunch after that. The cafeteria is a sea of noise and motion. I don't see Rylan, or Marshall, or anyone I recognize from yesterday. It's all new faces. All new ghosts. It's like I'm stuck in a loop, but the scenery keeps changing.

Lunch this time is a vegetable stew with a side of sourdough bread. The bread is good. The stew is good. Whoever is in that kitchen knows how to cook, that or I am too hungry to give a shit. I tear off a piece of bread and dip it into the stew. The broth is savory, the vegetables are tender. It's warm. It's comforting. I don't want to be comforted. I don't want to feel anything. But I do. I eat until the bowl is empty.

Afternoon therapy is... not fun. Dr. Lira is there to keep an eye on her prized possession and not the heaping mass of tears and misery that's attached to it. She's got a datapad in her hand and a smile on her face, but her eyes are cold. She's watching me.

Stand, wobble, tumble. Repeat. Today's new game is figuring out how long I can keep my balance. I'm holding onto the parallel bars for dear fucking life. I am NOT trying to fall again today. My legs burn, my back aches, and my hooves feel like they're about to crack.

Dinner. Another green tray. Roasted asparagus, mashed potatoes, and some kind of soy patty that's meant to be fake meat. The soy patty is a lie. A sad, dry, crumbly lie. But I eat it anyway. I eat it because I am hungry. And because I am bored. There is nothing else to do.

Rec time is new, but I don't like it. A bunch of people hanging out in a few rooms reading on E-Readers, playing computer games, watching movies on a big screen. Some talk, others don't. I get put into a spot with a good view of the TV, but I prefer to just keep to myself and read... whatever I can find. I don't want to be here. I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to be left alone.

So I read.

The next few days bleed into one another in a monotonous, soul-crushing rhythm. It's a cycle of food just barely good enough to make me feel happy, agonizing physical therapy, and forced socialization with people who are either too cheerful or too pitying. The faces change, but the routine stays the same. A different assistant helps me shower and dress. A different assistant wheels me to the cafeteria. A different assistant helps me eat. A different assistant helps me stop crying.

The only thing that is the same is the night. During lights out, I listen to each of the radio channels, just to see what people are up to so I am not alone with my thoughts. It's... a strange comfort, hearing all these strangers talk about their problems. And sometimes it's just small talk. Like about movies, or books, or what they had for dinner. But they're not my problems. Their lives are not my life. I am an intruder. A secret that cannot be told.

Then comes the weekend. No hard work, just free time galore... yay...

I have nothing to do in my room, I can hardly get myself anywhere that is even remotely disassociating from reality. I've asked and asked for books of my own and the same response is always "Just go read in the rec room."

I'm... really sad, honestly. I have no idea what to do, no strength to wheel myself around, and too much dignity to ask for help. So I either sleep, cry, or stare at something until I think its funny. This is a sadness I don't think I've ever experienced... ever. I feel genuinely... genuinely fucking miserable. I can't help but wonder if me dying was a better option. Every day it gets harder and harder to shake those thoughts away.

I have certainty in routine but randomness in everything else, and its destroying me. I don't see the same face enough to have the stones to want to say anything or get to know anyone. So I'm just... alone. All the damn time.

The only voices I ever hear are "Time to wake up!" or "Just one more stretch." or "What species are you?" Its so fucking...

I'm already so tired of it.

I'm a spectacle. A curiosity. A thing to be stared at. I hate it. I hate it so much. And I'm so, so tired of hating it.

It's the middle of the day on Sunday. I'm in the rec room. The TV is on, some mindless comedy show is playing. The various E-Readers are glowing in the dim light. I'm sitting by the window, staring out at the garden. I'm not really seeing it. I'm just... looking.

A Taijekan boy, maybe a teenager, with dark spots covering his face walks by. He stops and looks at me. I look away. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to talk to anyone. He hovers for a moment, then shuffles away. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. A tiny, pathetic victory in a war I am losing.

I close my eyes. I just want to sleep. To sink into the darkness and forget. Forget the body. Forget the pump. Forget the face in the window. Forget the life that was and the life that is.

"Excuse me." A new voice. A woman's voice. "Is it okay if I sit here?"

I open my eyes. A Taijekan woman is standing next to my chair. She's an older Felis-like thing, maybe ten years older than what I am now. Her fur is a mix of gray and white, and her eyes are a warm, amber color. She's holding an E-Reader, and she has a kind, gentle smile on her face. She's pretty. And she looks so... normal.

I nod a little "Y-yeah go for it."

She sits down in the chair next to me. "Thank you." She says. "It's so crowded in here today."

She turns on her E-Reader, and for a while, we just sit in silence. I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She seems so comfortable in her own skin. So at ease with the world. She's probably got a family. Friends. A life.

I want her to leave. But I also don't. It's a strange and confusing feeling. She's not staring at me. She's not asking me questions. She's not pitying me. She's just... here. Existing next to me. And in this lonely, miserable place.

"H-hey." I start to say. "Um..."

She looks up from her E-Reader. "Yes?"

"What... what are you reading?"

"Oh, its a book series called 'Starlight.' Its about a group of colonists who crash land on an alien planet and have to survive." She says. "I'm on the third book."

"Is it any good?"

She hums for a bit. "The second one was probably the best so far, I'm still trying to get through the third one." She pauses, then smiles at me. "Have you read it?"

"No." I say. "Most of the readers I've gotten just have documentary books in them."

"Oh, that's a shame." She says. "There's a whole library of books on the network here. You just have to know where to look. I can show you, if you'd like?"

"I thought... I thought the assistants were the only ones who could."

She laughs a little, "No, you just have to put in a little work. The system is a bit of a mess, but you can find almost anything if you look long enough." She leans over, her arm brushing against mine. "See? You just go to the main menu, then to 'Entertainment,' then to 'Library.' From there, you can search by title, author, or genre."

"Wow."

"Yeah. It's a lot."

"I wouldn't even know where to start." I admit.

"Well, what do you like to read?"

"I... don't really know." I say. Which is true. Work. Eat. Sleep. Hate. Repeat. That was my life. I hardly had the strength to grab a reader from its charging dock or ask for one.

"Well, let's see." She scrolls through the list. "How about... fantasy? Science fiction? Mystery? Romance?"

I shake my head at 'romance.' "Something with action. Maybe. Or a mystery."

"Okay." She says, her finger tapping on the screen. "Here. This one is good. 'The Sunstone Cipher.' It's a mystery about a historian who stumbles upon a conspiracy that could uncover a lost Mënskan Empire. It's got some action in it, too."

I look at the cover. It's a picture of a glowing, orange stone. "Okay. That looks... okay."

"I could get you a reader if you'd like." She says. I nod a little, I still don't want to ask people for things right now. She gets up, and in a minute or so, she comes back with a fresh one. "Here you go. Just don't forget to put it back when you're done."

"Thank you, miss...?"

"Elara."

"Lynette."

"It's nice to meet you, Lynette." She says. And she means it.

I spend the rest of the day in the rec room, my nose buried in the E-Reader. I follow the historian, a grizzled Mënskan man named Corvin, as he deciphers ancient clues and dodges shadowy figures. I get so lost in the story that I almost forget where I am. Almost.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I don't want the day to end. I don't want to go back to my room. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts.

Too bad. Time for bed. Various assistants come in to help the patients pack everything up and head back to their rooms. They call my name, but I don't move. I want to stay. I want to read. I want to be someone else. Someone who is not me.

"Lynette?" A woman's voice says. I look up. It's the same nurse from this morning. The one with the fake cheerfulness. "It's time to go."

"I'm not done."

"I know." She says. "But it's still lights out soon."

"I don't care."

She sighs. "You can finish reading after your scheduled visit tomorrow."

I look up at her. "Visit?" I ask, confused. "What visit?"

"You have a visitor tomorrow after breakfast. Has nobody told you?"

"No."

Who? Who could it be? Nobody I knew outside of this facility knows that I am even here.

"Well, you do." She says. "Now, come on. Let's get you back to your room."

I don't argue. I just let her wheel me out of the rec room, up elevators, and down hallways back to my room. A visitor. Who? Could it be the person Joric was talking about the other night? Her... my... partner? The thought makes my stomach decide cartwheels at 8 at night is a good, no, great idea. I don't want to see him. I don't want to talk to him. I don't know him.

The nurse helps me into bed, plugs in my pump, and hands me my nightly dose of pills. I take them without question and pretend I know what the fuck they do. She pulls the blanket up to my chin and wishes me a good night. The door slides shut with a click, and I'm alone.

The night is long. The silence is a heavy, very uncomfortable blanket of pins and needles. It's suffocating, its skin... fur whatever crawling. I toss and turn. I try to listen to the radio, but the voices are just noise. I try to sleep, but sleep won't come.

I see his face in my mind. The man from the memory. The feel of his hand in mine. The warmth of his breath on my lips. It's not my memory. But it feels real. Too real.

What will I say to him? What will he say to me? Will he see her? Will he see me? Will he see... this? A broken thing in a bed, a mind in a box, a ghost in a machine?

I'm terrified. I'm so, so terrified.

...

BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP.

"Five more minutes." I groan, pulling the blanket over my head.

BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP. BEBEBEBEP.

The door whooshes open. Another new face I won't recognize.

The blankets fly off instantly. "Conscious return, mammal thing Lynette!"

Oh fuck me its Anjali. Not again.

"Time for... up... go! Go! Move body!"

"I don't want to."

"Want ignored. Up!" She slithers her tail around my waist and lifts me up. I jolt awake at the touch.

"Hey! I'm plugged into the wall!" I say as my body is lifted with a little bit of a yank.

Anjali looks at the cord on the wall. She slithers over to the wall and unplugs it with a quick tug. She looks at the plug and then looks at me. Her vents glow a soft yellow. "Done. Go!"

"Okay! Okay! Put me down!" I say, scrambling to get my balance on her tail as she continues to hold me.

"Shower. Eat. Big day!" Her words are a jumble of broken Etrilian. "Make clean. Make good. No cry."

"Mmmmmughhhhh..." I groan. I hate this. I hate her. I hate everything.

Shower is an ordeal. Anjali is all business, she pushes me around and pokes in places that I wouldn't dare go even with my own hands. She's utterly devoid of any warmth or sympathy. She scrubs my fur with a rough brush, and the feeling is like being exfoliated with sandpaper. I flinch and whine, but she doesn't stop. Her tail coils around my midsection to keep me from squirming, and it feels like I'm being held by the hips. Its WILDLY uncomfortable because I keep experiencing these feelings that I cannot fathom into words, neither bad nor pleasant, rather just... seen. The feeling of being so vulnerable and exposed is a special kind of hell.

Anjali spent a few minutes perplexed by the concept of a bra, her vents flashing a pinkish color as she tried to figure out how it worked. "Shell for... mammal glands?" She asks, holding up the undergarment. "Why?"

"It's... it's for support." I mumble, my face burning with embarrassment.

"Support reasoning elaboration inquire very." She asks. "Gravity? Mammal things heavy not is." She prods one of them with her claws, making me yelp. "Soft. Support pointless? Hm?"

"Fuck if I know! Just put it on!"

She fumbles with it for a minute and her claws get caught in the straps. "Stupid... Useless!" She finally gets it on, but it's twisted and uncomfortably tight.

"Too... tight. Looser."

She just yanks on it, making it even tighter. "Good very."

"No! Not good!"

She lets out an angry hiss, eventually getting it right, and I'm left to gasp for air as I am put into a new gown and a pair of shorts. Cyan color this time.

Breakfast is something called a 'parfait.' Its a tube of yogurt with granola and berries. Apparently you eat it with ahem, UTENSILS. But since we don't have any, I literally just have to shovel granola and berries into my mouth and squeeze some of the yogurt tube in to mix it up. It's messy. Its sticky. My face is covered in it. But it tastes good.

Anjali has a red tray today. Its literally just all meat. Bacon strips, cubes of ham, a sausage patty, and a little cup of bone broth. She eats it with her bare hands, and the sound she makes is a wet, smacking, tearing sound. I don't think the BrainGrow helped her relearn table manners. Or perhaps she's never learned. I'm not sure which is worse.

After breakfast, we take the usual route to the physical therapy room. Hallways, elevator, floor 6, new hallways, big room. But this time, Anjali walked, or moreso slithered right past the elevator.

Oh, fuck me.

I know where this is going.

"Visit center you go. Special today mhm." She says, her vents glowing a soft yellow.

"No..." I say. "No, I don't want to."

Anjali ignores me. She slithers down a different hallway, one I've never been down before. The walls here are a softer shade of white, like a cream color. The floor is made of a polished, light gray tile. The air smells faintly of citrus and disinfectant. It's too clean. Too perfect.

We cross a walkway that has a window looking down to the outside, and by the ancestors where the FUCK are we?

I peer outside and I am immediately met with the highest looking drop I have ever seen in my life. The building is on the side of a mountain! The building is huge too! Its a modern marvel of architecture with its white stone walls and glass panes that reflect the rising sun.

AND ITS COVERED BY A HUGE FUCKING DOME!

So all of this is... indoors?

I can't make out anything underneath the thick haze of clouds below us. But I can see the very, very top of the mountain above us through the glass dome. The clouds seem to be rolling off the mountain and into the facility. It's beautiful. And terrifying.

Anjali seems unimpressed. She just keeps slithering along, her tail making a soft thumping sound on the tile.

"Wow..." I whisper, my breath fogging up the glass.

"Window is see. See is window. Not interest." Anjali pushes me along. "Go now."

"Where are we?"

"Special today mhm."

She slithers down another hallway, this one lined with portraits of important-looking Mënskan and Taijekan figures. They all look so serious, so important. So... dead. We stop in front of a door with a small keypad. Anjali taps a card from her waist, and the door slides open with a soft whoosh.

"In." She says.

The room is small. A single chair on my side, a single chair on the other. A thick pane of glass separates the two halves of the room. The walls are a soft, calming blue. There's a small table next to the chair on my side, with a box of tissues and a small vase of white flowers. The flowers are fake.

Anjali scoots the other chair out of the way and sets the wheelchair down in the dead center of the glass. The glass is so clear it's like it's not even there. I can see the empty chair on the other side. The same kind of chair, but with a cushion. For him.

For... whoever.

"Move not. Require stay." Anjali says. She doesn't wait for a response, just slithers out, the door sliding behind her. The click of the lock is so loud in the sudden silence.

I sit there. I wait. The thump-thump-thump of the pump is maddening. My hands are clenched so tight in my lap my knuckles are white. I am shaking. Not on the outside, but on the inside. Everything is shaking.

A few minutes pass. I am too shook with fear to dare move from the spot, or do anything like trying to see if there's something behind me.

Then I hear a noise. A crackling above my head.

SUBJECT SIX-EIGHT-TWO, ALIAS LYNETTE KYRA GELLER. RAISE YOUR ARMS AND AFFIRM YOU ARE NOT CARRYING A DEADLY WEAPON OR TOOL FOR HARMING.

I flinch, then I lift my arms. "I am not carrying a weapon." I say, my voice is so quiet I can barely hear it myself.

CONFIRMED. ROOM SECURE. PLEASE WAIT FOR YOUR VISITOR.

I lower my arms and the shaking gets worse. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. This is real. This is really happening.

I try to take a deep breath, but the pump won't let me. The air is pushed into my lungs at a steady, unyielding rhythm. I feel like I'm going to hyperventilate.

Another click. The door on the other side of the glass slides open. A figure steps through, and the door slides shut behind him. A new kind of terror seizes me, so sharp and sudden it almost stops the artificial breath in my throat.

Pierced ears atop the head. No tail...

Its Kaius.