This room has the stink of fear and blood, all festering under the too-clean smell of whatever they use to sanitize it. They wouldn’t want you to get an infection, after all. That would be a waste of tax payer dollars.

Inside the room are men and women dressed in white, with masks covering their faces and scrub caps over their hair. They have the too-sterlie smell about them as well, and all you can see is their eyes. They have dead looks to them, like people that have been pushed past the point of caring. The guard who grabbed you earlier starts to drag you to the table. You can fight all you want, but either way, you’re going to wind up where they want you to go.

And they’re going to be very annoyed if they have to drug you.

When you get up onto the table, you’ll find that there’s another gurney alongside you, with another small X5 like you. She’s scared, you can tell, but she’s got a good game face. When she speaks, her voice doesn’t shake, but her eyes tell you to listen without needing to say the word.

“Don’t move. It’ll hurt less if you do.”

“No talking,” one of the doctors’ snaps, before picking up a scalpel from the side of the table. “Let’s get started.”