Ardb - 008.2 [atipic008] -

In the sterile white halls of the facility, silence didn’t exist. There was only the low-frequency hum of the containment units and the rhythmic clicking of the automated observation drones.

As the heavy magnetic coils spun up, 008.2 finally looked at the camera. He didn't look angry; he looked sympathetic. He pressed his palm against the violet rift he’d created. Ardb - 008.2 [Atipic008]

The facility didn't shake. There was no explosion. Instead, the white walls of the cell simply began to turn into petals. Thousands of white lilies bloomed from the concrete, their roots drinking the electricity from the dampeners. The smell of ozone was replaced by a suffocating, sweet floral scent. In the sterile white halls of the facility,

When the security team finally breached the doors, the cell was empty. No Subject 008.2. No violet rift. Just a room filled floor-to-ceiling with flowers that stayed fresh for three hundred years, and a single note scrawled on the observation glass in frost: He didn't look angry; he looked sympathetic

"He’s doing it again," whispered Kaelen, a junior researcher. She pointed to the monitors. "The local reality index is dipping. He's pulling the room out of sync."