Work Text:
Arthur feels miserable. He exists in a sweltering malaise in his room, hooked up to an IV drip that doesn't feel like it's doing anything of significance for him. Maybe he'd be dead without it.
Part of him wonders if that wouldn't be preferable.
He asks the younger Entrati, when she's come to swap his bags out, what's happening to him. He prays it isn't what he suspects, even as his head spins with feverish delirium.
She pauses at first. A bad sign to begin with.
But when she finally speaks...
She's brutally honest. "The attempted cure," she tells him, an instant implication of failure, "Involved introducing a second strain of Technocyte to your system. The hope was," Past tense, "That the two strains would fight, and hopefully weaken eachother until your immune system could wipe them both out." And, just in case he hadn't figured it out: "It failed."
He can barely bring himself to ask, but he has to know. "...What's happened instead?"
"One strain won. It outmaneuvered both the other strain, and your immune system, and is now taking over your body."
Her expression is devoid of emotion as she says it. A carefully constructed mask of indifference. But her voice gives her away. Thick in spots where it shouldn't be.
"Why haven't you put me down, then?" He's a monster-in-waiting. A threat.
"Dad wants to study you. See why it didn't work. Figure out if he can fix it."
He feels like vomiting, but can't find the strength to sit up.
He doesn't want to be a labrat. Unfortunately, he literally signed up for this.
---
His reflection isn't a face anymore. It's some horned thing. No visible eyes, yet he can see his new visage in excruciating detail. No visible mouth, or nose. Yet he heaves great, panicked breaths, and shrieks in horror.
But no speech.
He hears the elder Entrati sigh. "...I thought this batch might have been the one. Seems we'll need to try again."
Try again? He's horrified they're willing to risk this happening to another person.
He wonders if it already has. If they have other monsters locked up in quiet little cells. Shrieking in horror at the reflection in the glass. Of what they've become.
Where's his sister? Does she know what's happened to him? Is it happening to her?
"I hate to say it." The younger Entrati begins. "But I think this is your closest attempt yet. They've never reacted this strongly before."
"It does imply significantly more awareness, doesn't it? We're getting closer, perhaps." The Elder replies, scribbling something down in his little touch screen device.
What kind of monsters did he sign their lives away to?
"But, it's still a few months until New Year's." The Elder says, apropos of seemingly nothing. "Still time for some tests."
The Younger sighs, exasperated. "What did you have in mind?"
"Transference tests. To see the extent of your control." The Elder proposes.
He doesn't know what that means, exactly, but he doesn't like the sound of it.
The Younger makes a face at her father. "I can tell you now, I'm probably going to get my ass kicked."
"Are you sure?" The Elder comments. "Arthur seemed rather fond of you."
Hey! He's still here, damnit! Two fists slam against the impact resistant glass. He feels a small thrill when he successfully startles both of them.
The Elder recovers first, grins and gestures at Arthur. "See? He even remembers his name."
He'll kill that old man.
---
He wakes up in the hotel room. Bolting up in bed, with hazy memories of looking in a mirror and seeing a monster. Memories of someone hopping into that monster's skin and taking control. Memories of fighting that control every step of the way.
He turns to see his sister sleeping soundly in the other bed. He chalks the memories up to a service related nightmare. He always hated having orders barked at him. It's why he was honorably discharged instead of ever making the cut for officer.
He lays back down, to at least try to sleep a little more before their wakeup call.
They've got to get to the lab in the morning.
---
