The low hum of machines echoed throughout the lab, broken only by the shuffle of scientists moving from tube to tube, scribbling notes as they went.
"Subject 2-071 is showing signs of complete DNA fusion," whispered one scientist, her pen scratching furiously across her pad.
Embryos floated in a greenish liquid, turning fully into human children. Pipes connected to their mouths transmitted health data—heartbeats, breaths per second, and brain activity—projected holographically beside each tube. The sterile smell of chemicals mingled with the faint metallic tang of machinery.
A man entered the lab. Dark ash hair framed his pale face, black-rimmed glasses catching the flicker of the fluorescent lights. His coat was perfectly white, his dark blue eyes lifeless, and a small mole marked the left side of his face.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Nathan," a female scientist greeted nervously. Her voice wavered, betraying her calm exterior.
"Hmm," he replied, his tone void of emotion. "Show me the one with an 80% fusion completion and the highest potential."
Her heart thudded in her chest. Why does it always feel like he can see through me? she thought, swallowing. This is the one they've been waiting for… I just hope it doesn't fail.
"Right this way, sir," she said, trying to steady her voice as she led him to the central tube. Inside floated a fully formed child with dark purple hair, eyes tightly shut, suspended mid-air as though asleep.
Dr. Nathan studied the child in silence. Every second stretched painfully, filled with the buzzing machines and her own nervous breaths.
"This one… paired with the mythical dragon bloodline?" he asked finally, his voice slicing through the lab like ice.
"Yes, sir," she replied quickly. "After more than a thousand attempts with other failed samples—approximately 1,087—Subject 3-081 has succeeded. She fused with an 80% completion rate. We anticipate she will display significant power, possibly a full or partial transformation when grown."
She forced herself to maintain her composure, though her mind raced. All those failures, all those children… and now this one. Please, let her survive. Please let this be enough.
Dr. Nathan remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the floating child. The air was thick with tension, the faint hum of machinery a reminder of the lives under scrutiny. After a pause, he asked, "Any abnormalities?"
"No, sir. None detected," she answered, relief mingling with residual fear.
As he turned to leave, his figure cutting a sharp silhouette against the lab's fluorescent light, he said coldly, "Prepare a detailed report on Subject 3-081. I want it on my desk by 5 PM today."
The lab fell silent again, except for the low hum of machinery. She exhaled slowly, though her hands still trembled slightly. This is just the beginning, she thought. We don't even know what she's capable of… or what she'll become.
The child remained motionless, yet the faint glimmer of power beneath her closed eyes hinted at the storm to come.