Once more, beeping.

This time, accompanied by the metallic humming of robot arms, and the whistling of blue lasers. It was long past midnight, and for the past thirty hours, Damian had kept his eyes peeled.

If he found himself being tortured in hell itself, he surely wouldn't witness nothing more upsetting than what he just had to see. But he couldn't look away. If he did, and he failed to react to a minimal imprecision of his machinery, he would not be able to forgive himself for as long as he lived.

By the time he was able to once more look at her factions, soft and fair, and at her sunlight hair, Damian was on his knees, arms on the steel bed-like plate, watchful through the one of his eyes that was still willing to blink.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

He felt like man turned a mouse, in a world blended from the worst nightmare and the bizarrest of dreams. His thoughts were radio static, and his heart had made peace with the suffering that clutched it.

Soon, like a an whispering breeze, a warm buzzing filled the silence left by the now dormant machinery. The reactor breathed its azure light into its frame, and from it, life spread through the circuits that ran between her flesh and skin.

A successful beep came from one of the screens behind Damian. Near instantly, he allowed himself to fall asleep. And, just as his eyelids shut and his legs went limp, on that bed-like metal platform that she laid on...

Linea's eyes opened wide, glowing like bright fiery suns were inside of them.