The corridors Hal walked through with Gregor were dingy, to say the least. The grimy floors stuck slightly underfoot, the walls were blotched with mold, and faded paint peeled away in places. Overhead, the same thick cables he'd seen in Gregor's office snaked along the edges of the ceiling, branching out to every room. Security cameras perched in each corner, their dark lenses tracking everything.
"The cafeteria's down this hall to the right," Gregor said, gesturing toward another corridor. "From there, you'll find the laundry room, showers, and the rec room. We've got some video game consoles and a decent film collection. Oh, and since you don't have any spare clothes, I'll send some your way in the morning."
They continued straight ahead, entering an area lined with reinforced steel doors. It had the unmistakable feel of a solitary confinement block—cold, sterile, and nothing like a typical dorm. Gregor stopped at the last door on the right and unlocked it.
Inside, the room looked relatively normal, at least compared to the corridors outside. A bed, a desk, a chair—basic but functional. But the security measures stood out. Iron bars reinforced the window, though it seemed like it could still open. In the corner, an all-seeing camera stared down.
"A camera? Seriously?" Hal muttered.
"It's for your own good," Gregor said matter-of-factly. "We need to monitor your well-being. We've had… incidents before. Bad dreams turned worse. We learned from it."
Hal exhaled sharply. "And if I need privacy?"
Gregor smirked. "Bathroom's your best bet."
Hal sighed but didn't argue.
Gregor gave a nod. "I'll see you in the morning then."
Before Hal could respond, a loud bang echoed through the corridor. He turned sharply toward the sound—another steel-reinforced door. The air shifted. Something radiated from behind it, something sharp and searing, like a wave of heat slicing through him. He clenched his fist at the sensation. Then came another force—a crushing weight pressing against his chest, like gravity itself had thickened.
His brow furrowed. What the hell is that sensation?
"Don't mind her," Gregor said, tapping a few things on her tablet.
"Her?"
"One of the residents," she explained. "She's a bit volatile. Probably heard your voice and decided to give you a little welcome."
"Great," Hal muttered.
Gregor chuckled. "Get some rest. Try not to stay up too late." With that, she pulled the door shut behind her, leaving Hal alone with his thoughts.
—
Morning arrived, and Hal sat up in bed, his breath slow and deliberate as he gathered his thoughts. For a moment, he hoped—prayed—that yesterday had been nothing more than a strange, fevered dream. But as the weight of reality settled in, he knew better.
He had woken up in the body of a younger version of himself. On another world entirely.
No matter how much he tried to wrap his head around it, the truth remained: this was real. It had happened. And whether he liked it or not, he had no choice but to accept it.
Still, there were things to be grateful for. He was no longer bedridden, no longer dying. In fact, he was a mutant now. That had to count for something. But the question remained—what kind of power did he have?
His eyes drifted toward the steel-reinforced door. The strange sensation he had felt yesterday—the sharp, searing wave of heat, the suffocating pressure—was gone. Just like that.
Pushing himself up, he walked toward the barred window. Outside, the sky was a dull gray, and rain drizzled down in thin streaks against the glass. Now that the daylight had fully arrived, he could finally see what surrounded this place.
It was heavily guarded.
Not by men, but by machines. Turrets stood at various points along the perimeter, their unmoving barrels a silent warning. Watchtowers loomed in the distance, their weapons trained inward, not outward. Whatever this place was, it wasn't a simple hospital. It wasn't an asylum, either.
It was a prison.
And Hal needed to get out.
Before the people who ran this place did something to him.
But… how?
A knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts. Before he could even answer, it creaked open, revealing Gregor. She strode in without hesitation, setting a neatly folded stack of clothes on the bed.
"Sleep well?" she asked, her tone light, almost casual.
Hal glanced at the clothes before looking back at her. "Define 'well.'"
She chuckled. "Fair enough. Go ahead and shower. After breakfast, I'll introduce you to the rest of the residents here. There's a group counseling session on today's agenda."
Hal raised an eyebrow. "Counseling session? Do I need to go?"
"Of course," Gregor said, as if the answer were obvious.
He frowned. "I don't really have any problems to discuss, do I?"
"That's not how it works, Hal." She folded her arms. "You haven't discovered your powers yet, have you? Listening to others talk about how they found theirs might help you figure yours out. You might even learn something useful. It'll be good. I promise."
And just like that, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
Hal exhaled through his nose, then turned to the stack of clothes. He picked out a pair of pants, socks, and a shirt before heading toward the shower.
It seemed he had no choice but to play along.
For now.