Chapter Text
Alhaitham awoke in a lab, strapped down to a very cliché metal experimental table. The surface was cold and cuffs bit into his bare wrists, ankles and neck. He grit his teeth, trying to twist out of his bonds but they were unyielding, tight and painful. He studies the room instead. It was white, and bare, a single caged light at the ceiling, bathing the room in a harsh yellow glow. He eyes flicked to the camera hidden in the corner before moving to the glass covering the wall on one side, likely some sort of one-way window. It showed him his rather pathetic reflection. Stripped of all his regular clothes replaced with a cheap white shirt and pants, blood lining the cuffs holding him down.
He'd miscalculated. Badly. Dug too far deep, arrogant enough to think they wouldn’t notice. He knew the Academia was suspicious of him, that Azar had been trying to find ways of getting rid of him. He should have known, when he saw their list of experiments, that he was to be their next candidate.
He’d miscalculated and now he was going to pay for it.
Just as that thought went through his mind, a couple of scientists walked in, decked head to toe in protective gear, a large trolley of things he couldn’t see in between them. They settle beside him, backs faced to him as they sort through the equipment on the table. One of them brings a small speaker towards their face mask.
“Subject is awake. Proceeding with phase 1 of the assimilation process.” The scientist voice is staticky, likely scrambled as to not be recognised by voice.
Wait.
Assimilation process?
Alhaitham had seen the files for their experimentation. An assimilation process hadn’t been mentioned in any of the active experiments. But a supposedly scrapped experiment, did. It had been banned due to the use of substances forbidden by the Academia. It couldn’t be…had the sages really gone that far?
Alhaitham, took a breath, attempting to test the bonds again. The assimilation process had a 5% survival rate due to the high levels of stress it put on the body and mind. Barely any of the experiments had survived the assimilation process. Alhaitham may be known for being lazy, but dying was out of the question. He wasn’t going to-
His train of thought halted for once when something sharp was jabbed into the exposed part of his neck, while a pair of hands held down his writhing body.
A needle, was the last coherent thought he had before liquid fire entered his neck, quickly spreading through his whole body. Alhaitham, for the first time, felt his grip on his mind slip. Pain spread through every corner of his body.
Hot. It was too hot.
It burned.
Alhaitham couldn’t tell what his body was doing, whether it was convulsing on the table, as the restraints tore at his wrists, ankles and neck. Whether his throat was tearing from screams of pain. All he could focus on was the burning heat that spread through his body. It felt like every bone, every organ, was melting. Like his body was eating itself from the inside out. He wanted to claw and tear at his skin which refused to free the intense heat as it continued to scorch its way through him.
He didn’t know how long it lasted, the heat, the pain. It was all he could do to fight against it. To hold into the thought that if he didn’t get through this, he would die.
He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t.
He had to live. He had to live. He had to live. He had to live. He had to live. He had to live. He had to live. He had to live. He had to live. He had to live.
---
He awoke slowly. He thinks. He’s not entirely sure if he’s actually awake. The space between him and his body seems endless, a dark never-ending abyss where he will find nothing but pain. He’s not sure if he’s ready for the pain again. But the darkness was cold, empty. It reminded him of his life after his grandmother died. After Kaveh walked out of his life. He didn’t want to stay here. So, he slowly began to drag himself back to his body.
It was an arduous process, fighting against both his body and mind. As he got closer, he could feel the prickles of heat begin to pierce his skin. Alhaitham steeled himself and fought against it, until he could feel the muscles of his eyelids twitching. Prying them open was difficult, Alhaitham almost convincing himself it wasn’t the effort. But the pain, while not gone, was manageable now. His body tingled and his limbs felt like lead. Exhaustion filled every marrow of his bones. Maybe he should just let himself fall back under, let the exhaustion take him.
For some reason he didn’t, however. Something, a deep instinctual part of him, told him he needed to wake up. Were Alhaitham more coherent, more his regular self, he would have pried this thought from its place, turned it over and dissected its origin and meaning. But Alhaitham was too tired to question it. So, he listened, fighting to open his eyes. They felt swore and dry, and when they finally opened, Alhaitham’s vision was too blurry to see anything but blobs of white, moving and shifting above him. They were doing something to him, to his body, but once again an instinctual part of him told him not to see what they were doing. So Alhaitham simply stared at the ceiling, attempting to blink his vision back into clarity.
One of the scientists seemed to notice his slowly regaining lucidity and grabbed Alhaitham’s face, shining a torch into his eye. Alhaitham flinched, the torch so bright it burned, searing a ring of white into his suddenly closed vision. The voices jumbled together above him. It was strange. Alhaitham could hear all their voices, but he could also hear the scuffle of their feet, the rustling of their clothes, the exhalation of air when they breathed. He could hear everything in the room. Everything, all at once. It hurt. Alhaitham tried to move his arms to cover his ears but couldn’t. Sound continued to assault him from every direction. It was too much.
Alhaitham took a shuddering breath, trying to breathe through the noise, through the clutter, through everything. He wasn’t going to let this be the thing that breaks him. With his eyes closed, he concentrated, and the voices slowly became clear.
“While this is only the first stage of the assimilation process, the subject is showing signs of coherence and lucidity. That the subject is still in its right mind, which will increase its chances of survival in later stages. Additionally, the subject seems to have a degree of compatibility with the serum. Due to that, and its healthy body, we will likely be able to move to the nest phase by the end of the week.”
Alhaitham couldn’t tell which one was speaking, with them all wearing masks, but that didn’t stop him from glaring at the one closest to him. To think Azar and his followers had fallen so far down. He tried to twist his limbs but realised that his body wasn’t responding to him at all. A dull throbbing emanated through every muscle in his body, a constant burning sensation that Alhaitham was slowly getting used to. It seemed the only way he would be able to figure anything out at the moment was relying on his senses.
His eyes still burned from the torch shone into it. His mouth was filled with the taste of blood; he seemed to have bitten his cheek or something during the seizure. His skin still tingled, causing a shiver to rake its way down his spine. He tried not to think too much about the burning smell that entered his nose. So, he strained his hearing. Information. He needed information. It didn’t matter, as long as long as he could find more than what he had currently. But the scientists remained silent, the scuffles of their feet the only sign that they were still here. Faintly, he could hear the beeping of machinery, though he couldn’t pin-point where from. There was a buzzing sound coming from above, the light, maybe? He could also make out the slight sound of quick, harsh breaths. They were too fast, abnormal, and grew harsher the more he focused on them. Oh. They were his, weren’t they?
Alhaitham tried to recall the breathing techniques that Kaveh used to use amidst one of his panic attacks. Deep breaths. In for three. Hold for three. Out for three. Repeat. At first it was difficult, Alhaitham’s ragged breaths difficult to control, but slowly, he felt his lungs listen to him. Felt the air as it circulated. Breathing still hurt, everything still hurt, but since waking up on in this room, it was the first time he felt he had any sort of control over anything.
It shouldn’t have surprised him that the feeling wouldn’t last.
Having focused so much on his breathing, Alhaitham hadn’t noticed the scuffling of the scientists had vanished. Now, he could hear a faint hissing sound, and the burning smell was replaced with something distinctly chemical.
Shit.
The gas closed around his throat, choking him, robbing him of his hard-earned breaths. There was no way for him to stop it from entering his system, forced to let it spread through his system. The burning reached a peak once more, Alhaitham having just enough awareness to feel a scream tear through his already destroyed throat before the world went dark once more.
---
“Alhaitham, get your lazy ass out of bed already. I’m heading out to meet a client and your books are still all over the dining table.”
Alhaitham, opened his eyes blearily. He was lying in a bed, it’s pillows large and plush, the sheets a deep green and texture that felt especially pleasant. His bookshelf was across from him, stock full of countless books that he had collected over the years. There was a faint scent of jasmine, the incense Kaveh used in his room that tended to permeate through most of the house.
Slowly, Alhaitham rose out of bed, hand up, massaging at his forehead.
The burning sensation was gone, his limbs not restrained by metal or exhaustion.
Alhaitham’s eyebrows furrowed as he stood from his bed and walked out of his room, where Kaveh, his roommate was waiting. His roommate had a hand on his hips, while the other held onto his sentient toolbox Mehrak. He was tapping his foot impatiently, startling slightly when Alhaitham opened the door.
“Finally,” Kaveh threw his hands up dramatically, “To think I go out of my way to wake you up because you have something on today and you don’t even have the decency to tell me you’re already awake.”
“Well if you’re so insistent on having decency, then you could pay me for this month’s rent.” Alhaitham quipped back. It was instinctual, but Alhaitham felt a little too removed from everything. Kaveh opened his mouth to retort but seemed to notice Alhaitham’s strange mood.
“Whatever, I’m not in the mood to argue with you. Just don’t forget that Nilou’s show is on tonight so don’t get too lost in whatever research you’re doing. “
“You don’t need to parent me Kaveh, I actually have control over my life unlike you.”
“Hey-“
Wait.
“Kaveh, did you say Nilou’s performance? Didn’t that happen a couple months ago?”
Kaveh stops mid-rant, before looking at Alhaitham strangely.
“No? Is that a joke? I didn’t take you to find humour in that sort of thing.”
Alhaitham pressed his palm to his head. A headache was beginning to form. Something wasn’t right. He and Kaveh had already gone to see the performance. He swore he remembered listening to him rant about it for a whole week to Alhaitham, critiquing Alhaitham in how he couldn’t appreciate arts for what they were meant to be. That had happened, right?
“I…Kaveh, what’s the date today?”
Kaveh looks at him confused, “What is going on with you? Are you sick or something, Alhaitham?”
“Stop avoiding the question Kaveh.”
“I’m not, this is just really weird, Alhaitham, even for you. You never lose track of this type of stuff. Are you sure you’re – woah!”
Alhaitham suddenly collapsed. His head felt like it was splitting in two, and the burning sensation began to prickle throughout his body. It starting to get hot. To hot. He vaguely thought he could feel hands on him and Kaveh’s panicked voice.
“Alhaitham!? Alhaitham are you okay? What, what’s going on? Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham cringed at the volume, his ears ringing. Far off, he thought he could vaguely hear the beeping of machinery. With the hand not gripping his head, Alhaitham grabbed at Kaveh’s wrist, working against his body to look into Kaveh’s wide, red eyes.
“Answer…answer the question, Kaveh.”
“What? I don’t-“
“You don’t know, do you?”
Kaveh’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Alhaitham in confused anger, wrist still trapped in Alhaitham’s grip.
“Of course, I know what the date is. Alhaitham, you’re worrying me right now.”
“No. You don’t. Because I don’t either. Because you’re just a figment of my imagination.”
“What on earth are you talking about-“
“Kaveh. Stop. This, this is a dream, isn’t it.”
“I-I…”
“You can’t answer that of course, considering you’re just a figment of my imagination.”
The façade of Kaveh in front of him began to dissolve, the dream around him losing focus. Alhaitham watched as the dream began to disappear, watched as the Kaveh in front of him dissolved. The room flashed green and Alhaitham found himself in the middle of a black void.
The burning sensation suddenly came back at full force and Alhaitham wrapped his arms around himself, collapsing fully. He clawed at his sides, his arms, his neck. Anything to relieve the burning as it scorched through him, over, and over, and over, and over, and over-
---
Alhaitham awoke with a start, his lungs heaving, and his throat parched and dry. His nails stung, a sharp pain that pierced through the burning fog. He focused on it, crawling through the haze, willing his fingers to flex. There was a delay, as if his body and mind weren’t quite connected but eventually, he felt them curl into the surface he lay on. It stung, and Alhaitham blearily opened his eyes, blinking through the fogginess and dryness to study his fingers. The nails were ragged, bleeding, as if he had racked them harshly across the ground repeatedly. His wrists were a deep red purple, outlined by jagged, bleeding burns. The aftermath of his struggling’s with his cuffs.
Wait. Had they moved him? He wasn’t on the table anymore. Alhaitham tried to shift to look around but, beyond the twitch of his hand, his body didn’t respond. An ugly feeling welled inside of him, a twisting of the stomach that quickened his ragged breath.
It clawed its way up his throat as he began desperately gasping for air. His lungs ached, burning in a different way now. He couldn’t breathe, could barely fight against his own body. He couldn’t-he couldn’t, breathe, breathe. He was dying, chocking. The burning was consuming him, destroying him. To hot. Couldn’t breathe. Stop. No. Breathe. Stop. Please. Please. Please, please, please pleasepleasepleaseplease-
“Deep breaths for me know. In for three. Hold. Out for three.”
The memory cut through his panicking mind, and he grasped onto it desperately. It remained hazy and unclear, but Alhaitham held onto it tightly, using it as a lifeline out of the abyss slowly consuming him. He focused on the voice in the memory (his own voice?), doing his best to follow along and control his breathing. Slowly, the hands at his throat loosened and the pressure in his lungs disappeared. The ugly sensation remained in his stomach, but Alhaitham was slowly able to identify the emotion. Fear.
Fear? He was afraid. The uncertainty, the pain, the hopelessness, it was starting to get to him. He didn’t know how long he’d been here. Less than a week for sure. Was he so weak to already be losing himself so early? No. No, had to stay. Alhaitham held onto the memory, recalling it as one of Kaveh’s panic attacks. The wide-eyed panic, the certainty he was going to die as Alhaitham did his best to comfort him.
How pathetic. To be reduced to lying in an empty room on the floor, immobile, clinging onto a memory with a man that had made his distaste towards Alhaitham clear just to remain sane.
How utterly pathetic.
Alhaitham kept the image of Kaveh in his head, his (not?) best friend, his annoying roommate, his…something. Held onto it tightly, using it as an anchor to stand against the pain. Finally with a grasp, no matter how tenuous, over his mind, Alhaitham slowly willed his body to move.
He found himself shirtless, though countless grey veins seems to web across his body, squirming in tandem with the burning throb felt inside his body. His arms were free of chains, though the grey veins continued down them and rather obvious needle holes scattering his elbow and forearm. They must have been blood samples for the scientist to use–Alhaitham tried not to think about why those would be needed. Shifting to hold himself took more effort than Alhaitham thought, every movement causing his ruined body to struggle. Embarrassingly slowly, Alhaitham managed to prop himself up against wall white wall. From there he noticed the chains attached to his legs and the wall. They limited his ranged to only a metre or so away from the wall, not that it mattered much when Alhaitham could barely move, let alone walk around. Other than that, the room was bare, painted white from floor to ceiling. There were faint cracks along the ceiling and the walls were lined with strange white tiling, cold on his burning back.
Alhaitham let his eyes slowly track the thin cracks, trying not to let his mind drift. He had to focus. There had to be a way out, not that he had much hope to do it on his own when he couldn’t even move. He could at least focus on what he did know then.
While Alhaitham didn’t have the exact details, he vaguely recalled some notes made on the cancelled experimentation. The Divine Ascension Project. It started as a way of testing human limits and surpassing them. Unlocking new potential in humans to become something, greater. It’s first head researcher, Rukkhadevata, was someone Alhaitham had heard of in passing as the Akademia’s brightest ever scientist, wise beyond her years. Alhaitham had no way of knowing her motives, how or why she created the serum, but supposedly the first experiments were volunteers. But as time went on, results got worse and Rukkhadevata shut down the experiments. Alhaitham wished he’d been able to find more but most of Rukkadeva’s research and notes had disappeared into the hands of the sages after her death.
Where the sages trying to recreate her experiments? Trying to twist something meant to push human potential into some sort of sick torture?
The records stated the Rukkhadevata had destroyed the last of the serum before she died. Was this a lie made by the sages as well? Just how much were they hiding?
Alhaitham’s vision began to spin as he realised just how in over his head, he realised he was. Kaveh had said that Alhaitham’s own downfall would come by his hubris. Looks like he was right. Alhaitham could hear the scoff and ‘I told you so’ spiel Kaveh would have given him. Honestly that sounded way better than being stuck in this tiny white room.
He wanted to sit on the divan and read from his pile of books, to listen to Kaveh scratching away on one of his projects. He wanted to enjoy the scent of jasmine and coffee that wafted through the walls of his house. He wanted to listen to the sound of the wind and birds in the morning. The faint bustle of cars and people that could be heard from inside. He wanted to eat the wonderful food from Lambard’s and have a nice cup of wine at his dining table.
He wanted to go home.