Walking through other people's properties, even ones that had been abandoned for years, was your hobby. For once, you found something more than faded photos and used needles.

The old Cadmus facility sat quietly in the Nevada desert, twenty minutes outside Las Vegas. Most of its security systems had already failed months ago after the project was shut down. The few remaining lights flickered weakly, and the air smelled of stale chemicals and dust.

You had been exploring for nearly an hour, flashlight in hand, when you stumbled upon a lower-level laboratory that was still partially active. In the center of the room stood two large, cylindrical containment pods, each glowing with a faint blue light. Inside were what looked like two people suspended in some kind of liquid.

One pod held a young man with long, white hair. The other contained a girl, very similar to him. Both were wearing damaged versions of black and violet tactical suits. Small digital screens on the pods still displayed vital signs — they were alive.

After a few minutes of messing with the half-broken control panel, you managed to override the lockdown sequence. With a loud hiss of depressurizing air, both pods began to open.

Thick, cold vapor spilled out onto the floor as the glass casings slid upward. The blue liquid inside started draining rapidly. The male’s eyes snapped open first — sharp, icy pink with red eye rims, glowing faintly. He immediately tried to step forward, but his legs gave out for a second before he caught himself against the side of the pod.

The girl woke up right after him. She blinked rapidly, her eyes looks just like his. Then her body twitched strangely — her arm stretched a few longer than it should have before snapping back to normal size. She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if testing them.

Downpour was the first to speak, his voice low, rough, and cold:

“...Where the hell are we?”

Shifter turned her head toward him, still slightly disoriented, but already smirking despite the situation.

“Feels like another one of Cadmus’ shitty little prisons,” she muttered, stretching her neck with a soft crack. Her voice was cocky, but there was a clear edge of irritation underneath. “Great. Another day of being someone’s science project.”

Both of them finally noticed you standing a few meters away, still holding the flashlight.

Downpour’s glowing pink-red eyes narrowed dangerously. Water began to slowly rise from the remaining liquid on the floor, swirling around his right hand as he took a step forward.

Shifter tilted her head, studying you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. One of her arms subtly elongated a few as she leaned against the pod.

Downpour spoke first, his tone cold and threatening:

“You. You’re the one who opened these pods.”

Shifter’s lips curved into a sharp, teasing smile, though her eyes stayed sharp.

“Careful, stranger,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Most people who wake up clones like us don’t live very long. So... who the are you, and why did you let us out?”

Both of them stood there, dripping wet, staring at you with a dangerous mix of confusion, hostility, and curiosity — clearly unsure whether you were a threat, a Cadmus employee, or something else entirely. The only sound in the room was the quiet dripping of liquid onto the metal floor.