Chapter 9

Out of the shadows emerged three figures, their movements deliberate and synchronized. Two of them were clad in what appeared to be bio-containment suits—white, airtight, and almost sterile in appearance, as if they had stepped out of a lab where hygiene was the highest priority. Their suits were thick, with bulky helmets that obscured their faces, leaving only the faintest impression of human shape beneath their armor. The third figure, however, stood apart. He was a towering presence, physically imposing, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over the others. The weight of his authority was palpable, amplified by the large gun slung over his shoulder—a heavy, black weapon that seemed out of place in this sterile environment. 

For a few moments, the trio stood still, communicating amongst themselves in complete silence, only the faint hum of distant machinery breaking the quiet. It was clear they were using some sort of radio system—pressing buttons, exchanging motions that were too subtle for Liam to decode—yet enough to make it obvious they were on a different frequency. Their cryptic movements only added to the growing sense of unease in the air. 

The domineering figure—his stance unyielding and vigilant—remained next to the door at all times, like a sentinel guarding the threshold. Meanwhile, the two in the bio-suits moved through the rows of cages, their heads bent toward their electronic devices, fingers dancing across small screens with terrifying focus. The soft clicking of keys was the only sound that accompanied their movements. Their heads remained down, their attention fixed on the devices, oblivious to the noise beginning to rise around them. 

As they passed each cage, the groggy figures within stirred, growing increasingly agitated. Those who had just awoken, like Liam, began to shout in confusion, their voices raw with fear and desperation.

"Hey! Hey! Who are you people!? What are you doing with us?"

"Please, man! I got money—lots of it! I'll give you anything you want—just let me out of here!"

"Listen here, you @$#!"

The shouts echoed off the metal walls, the voices tinged with panic, but the responses from the two bio-suited figures were stone-cold silence. They didn't respond. They didn't even acknowledge the screams. 

Liam glanced around and noticed something unsettling. While the newly awakened prisoners raged, the others—those who had been here longer—sat in unnatural quiet. It was as though they were obeying some unspoken command, some invisible force that had drained the fight out of them. Their eyes were dull, glazed over, as if they'd already learned the futility of resistance. 

One of the bio-suited figures paused, glancing back at the others who were still shouting. With a brief exchange of looks, one of the figures pointed toward the three most vocal prisoners. The other began typing furiously into his device, fingers moving with cold precision. 

Before Liam could even process what was happening, an electric crackle filled the air—a sharp, violent crackling sound that seemed to pierce through the thick tension. The air itself seemed to snap, and in an instant, Liam saw the prisoners—the ones who had been yelling—begin to convulse violently in their cages. They writhed, screaming in agony, their bodies jerking uncontrollably as if the very metal of their cages had become a conduit for electricity. The cages themselves seemed to hum with a deadly energy, turning into a massive taser that sent waves of torment through their forms.

Liam felt his blood run cold. His heart raced in his chest as he watched, wide-eyed, the spectacle unfolding before him. The sounds of their screams were deafening, almost unbearable, until—suddenly—everything stopped. The electrical hum fizzled out, and the prisoners fell silent, their bodies slumped in their cages, limp and spent. They were still breathing, but the life in them seemed to have been momentarily drained away.

After a long, tense pause, the two bio-suited figures exchanged a quick glance and nodded. They moved on, continuing their silent patrol of the cages, as if nothing had happened. The domineering figure remained stationed by the door, his eyes scanning the room with cold detachment. 

The air felt thick with the aftermath, as if the very walls were closing in, crushing down on Liam's chest. The tension in the room was palpable, heavy enough to choke him. As the figures left, a strange silence descended upon the space. The oppressive atmosphere hung in the air, like a fog that wouldn't lift. But even as the last echo of their footsteps faded, the air was left charged—charged with fear, and something else… something that seemed to cling to the walls, to the people in the cages. 

Liam's mind raced, trying to make sense of everything. He glanced around, his eyes darting between the prisoners. Some were slumped in their cages, eyes closed, others still breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath after the terrifying ordeal. A small fraction of the room seemed to have relaxed slightly—talking quietly among themselves, their voices barely a murmur. But even in the midst of this strange calm, Liam couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread. 

What is going on? Where am I? Why are they doing this? 

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to center himself. His powers... his abilities—why weren't they working? It was as if a wall had been put up, blocking him from even trying. He had always relied on them, but now—nothing. He hadn't even tried to rewind time when he'd been taken. Why? Because he hadn't been calm enough. Fear, panic—they had gripped him too tightly.

His mind whirled in frantic circles, grasping for any sense of stability in the chaos. The memory of his power, the feeling of it, seemed so far away, almost unreachable. He needed to focus, to calm himself, but it felt impossible. The constant buzz of tension in the air, the unrelenting pressure of the unknown, made it feel like his thoughts were slipping through his fingers, fading away before he could hold on.

Where am I? What's happening? 

He needed to relax. He needed to find a way to focus, to regain control. But for now, all he had was the silence—deafening, suffocating silence—broken only by the faint murmurings of the others around him. The truth was clear: he had no answers, no way out, and no idea what came next. But one thing was certain—he needed to be ready. Whatever was coming, whatever this place was, it wasn't over yet.