Dylan blinked hard as awareness crept back into his body, only to realize he couldn't move. Thick restraints pinned his wrists and ankles to a cold metal table.
Panic surged instantly as he groaned and strained against them, muscles screaming in protest.
"Ohh, fuck that bastard Otto," he hissed under his breath.
His head throbbed violently, vision spinning every time he shifted. The overhead lights stabbed straight into his eyes making his skull feel like it was splitting apart.
Whatever he had been given wasn't ordinary alcohol. His tongue felt numb, his limbs heavy, and his thoughts sluggish, but instinct screamed at him to stay awake.
Then he heard voices.
"The subject is stable. You can inject him with Progenitor Residuum."
Dylan's breath hitched.
