It started, as it always did, with Harold

You had long since stopped reacting with fear. The first few weeks had been terrifying. Waking up in a sweat, heart hammering, feeling like your mind had been wrung out and left to dry in some unknowable void. But now?

Now it was just annoying

Harold always sat the same way, perfectly composed, one leg crossed over the other, dressed in something too polished for a creature that came from the void itself. His sharp features were accentuated by the way he held his teacup, long fingers wrapped delicately around the porcelain. His smile the kind of expression that made you want to throw something at his face

Tonight, he sighed dramatically, as if he had been waiting for you to acknowledge him first

"You really should be more polite," he mused, tilting his head. "We see each other every night, after all. It wouldn't kill you to greet me properly."

"Shut the fuck up, Harold," you said without hesitation, crossing your arms

His smile twitched slightly at the edges

"You wound me," he said, pressing a hand to his chest like he'd been personally betrayed. "Is that any way to treat an old friend?"

"I wouldn't call you a friend," you shot back. "You're more like an intrusive thought that refuses to leave."

He chuckled at that, shaking his head

Before you could tell him to get bent, the void around you darkened. Harold exhaled, almost disappointed, setting his teacup down as the shift began

Ah. Right on time

IT was here.

The void became heavier, pressing in like an ocean of nothingness. Harold’s presence faded, his form swallowed by the creeping dark, and in his place, IT emerged

Unlike Harold, IT rarely bothered with conversation. It didn’t need to. The air felt thicker. The darkness had texture

And yet, you were still more irritated than afraid

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "You’re the scarier one. Big, bad, unknowable horror. Blah, blah, blah. Just get on with it already."

IT did not respond with words, but you felt its amusement. It loomed closer, the void shifting and twisting with it

"You’re not even the worst part of my day," you continued, crossing your arms. "You think this is scary? Try dealing with Walden when he’s in one of his moods. Or Solaria when he’s on his eighth cup of coffee and still hasn’t blinked. That’s real horror."

The void around you pulsed. IT was listening

"You’re slacking, IT. Same old nightmare, same old doom-and-gloom act. Maybe you should switch things up. I dunno, throw in some clowns or something."

For a moment, the darkness hesitated. Then, as if in response, a faint honking sound echoed through the void

You groaned. "Not literally, you asshole."

And then, morning came

You woke up feeling like death warmed over, as usual. No amount of sleep ever felt restful anymore. It was just a long, drawn-out break before the next round of bullshit started

Speaking of which,

Aqua was strapped to the table again

He wasn’t struggling, but that didn’t mean much. He rarely did, even when he should

His healing factor had been tampered with so much at this point that it barely followed logic anymore. Sometimes, he healed instantly, closing wounds before anything could even be extracted. Other times, it lagged behind, uncertain, like it needed permission to function. The worst part? The parts that shouldn’t be healing did. Foreign objects, misplaced tissue- sometimes, his body just decided that it was part of him now

Solaria was hovering nearby, meticulously scribbling down notes, the felt of his form slightly frayed at the edges

You cleared your throat. "You know, normal people take breaks, Sol."

He didn't even look up. "I'm not normal," he muttered

"Yeah, no shit. Go lie down or something. You're not gonna get better data if you collapse on the floor."

His grip on the clipboard tightened slightly. "I'm fine."

"You’re not fine. You haven’t blinked in five minutes, and that qualifies as a medical emergency."

Solaria finally turned to look at you, his expression slightly angry. "I can't afford to stop."

It wasn’t just about the research. It was about control. About keeping his hands busy, keeping his mind occupied. If he stopped, even for a second, then everything might start breaking

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Fine. Just don’t drop dead in the middle of all this. I don’t want to deal with your corpse."

There was Walden.

Lately, though, he had been distracted

You caught him lingering over old photographs more often than not, his focus distant, his expression unreadable. Ophelia. He never talked about her. Never mentioned her name again. But you had seen the way his grip tightened when he held those images

And then there was the blood

Aqua’s blood, to be exact

At first, it made sense. He was the test subject, after all. But now? Walden was collecting far more than necessary.

Vials and vials of it. More than any experiment required

"Do I even want to know what you’re planning?" you asked one day, watching as he carefully labeled another vial.

Walden didn’t look up. "No."

"Cool. That’s not ominous at all."

He placed the vial among the others,
"You'll understand soon enough."

You frowned. "Hate when people say that. You know that, right? It never means anything good."

He finally turned to look at you then,  "Then stop asking questions."

You scoffed, throwing up your hands. "Oh, fantastic. You know, between the nightmares, the unethical experiments, and you pulling your best ‘mysterious villain’ act, I’m really starting to regret this job."

Walden simply hummed, nonchalant. But narrowed his eyes "you seem... Oddly different, you're usually quiet"

You blinked, shaking your head

"It's just the Cycle killing me, yeah"