"hey watch it!"
The soldiers’ grip on her arms was unnecessary. Andromeda wasn’t fighting, not yet. She stumbled anyway as they shoved her into a room that felt too cold, too clean. Fluorescent lights hummed above, making every surface gleam like hospital steel. At the far end of the chamber stood a wall of glass. Behind it, towering banks of machinery blinked and thrummed, cables snaking like veins into the dark.
A man in a gray government suit sat at a table in the middle of the room, waiting. He gestured to the empty chair across from him with the air of someone who had already decided the outcome.
There's the dawning realization that she was being watched. Which was obvious, but this was beyond the man in front of her. This was something more.
As she observed the flickering mechanical structure, she would start to notice it had a pattern to it. Some strange rhythm, indescribable, but obviously there.
"Well, you were a fighter, weren't you?"
