Logan’s Path—Countdown!

From his earliest memories, Logan had been taught obedience. Boundaries were sacred, rules absolute, and questions were forbidden. Those who defied the established order were erased from existence, a lesson he learned as a toddler when he saw a neighbor publicly executed for dissent.

Now, strapped to a cold metal table with a deep gash on his chest, Logan faced the grim reality of his own mortality. A man in a white coat stood over him, holding a grinder that roared to life with a sharp, deafening whir.

“Am sorry to do this in such animalistic ways. But we don’t have much resources. Don’t worry though,” the man said, his tone clinical and devoid of emotion. “This won’t take long.”

Logan thrashed against the straps with all his strength, the pain in his dislocated shoulder ignored in his desperation. But it was no use. The straps were too tight, his strength too diminished.