The room pulsed softly— white light humming overhead, too clean, too quiet.
Lila never lifted her head when Vivian entered.
Her body already knew.
Chains rattled violently as Lila thrashed against them, wrists raw, ankles trembling. Her chest heaved in shallow, panicked bursts as she fought for air that never seemed to reach her lungs.
The high was fading now—ecstasy burning out of her bloodstream—leaving paranoia to bloom in its place, sharp and clawing and alive.
To Vivian, it was all just noise.
Unnecessary movement.
Inefficient panic.
It made her smile.
She stopped a few steps away, heels clicking once against the floor before she stilled.
"You know," Vivian said lightly, almost conversational, "I was a little frightened when you pulled that stunt back at the compound."
Lila's chains shrieked as she lurched forward, muscles straining past reason.
Vivian tilted her head, watching with detached fascination.
