CONTROLLED INTERACTION COMPLEX - OBSERVATORY DOME LXII
Partial Ethnographic Record Transcription: Korr Superior - Llynel Node 7
Inside the observation dome, the environment mimicked terrestrial atmosphere.
Stable temperature, breathable composition, dim lighting adjusted to human circadian rhythms.
The prisoners were housed in individual hexagonal compartments, designed with plant-based materials vibrating with low bioactivity. Though technically confined, they were not restrained. They had beds, books, functional toilets and most unsettlingly: windows.
Llynel walked among the cells with a fiber folder in her arms. She didn't really need to take physical notes. Her memory didn't require it. But she enjoyed the act of turning pages, as she had heard in stories humans told each other at dusk, unaware that she was listening through the resonance of the wall's tendrils. She found it fascinating.
— You raise your eyebrows when you're frustrated — she said to a prisoner in his forties, who had just slammed a sketchbook shut.
— ¡Because I am frustrated, you lunatic! — he growled, turning his head toward the wall.
— Interesting. Noted. Frustration: intense expressive reaction, cumulative, possibly linked to lack of contextual control. — She made a mark on the page, more for theatricality than necessity. — ¿Want to talk about it?
—¡Not with you!
Llynel leaned toward the glass, smiling. Her facial petals quivered with a playful pulse.
—I brought you a… ¿what do you call it? I think it was 'cake.'
The man turned slowly, confused. On a living tray held by a vine next to the cell was a piece of cake with freeze-dried strawberry. It wasn't the best, but it was human food. Real human food.
An attempt by Llynel at cooking, or as she liked to call it, high-concentration nutritional procedure.
—¿You're… comforting me?
—I'm replicating emotional appeasement protocols. ¿Did it work?
The man hesitated. Then took the cake and muttered something that could be interpreted as "Thanks."
Llynel turned with satisfaction toward the next cell. In it, a young woman was reading a book with a drawing of two humans embracing on the cover. Llynel observed her silently for a few seconds.
—You laughed on page 27. ¿What caused it?
The woman looked up, annoyed.
—¿Why do you treat us so well?
—¿'Well'? — Llynel asked, her tone genuinely confused. — I'm just trying not to break the study subject. Human culture depends on humor, frustration, routine, and romantic impulses. I must preserve the appropriate environment for those responses.
— And your colleagues? What do they say about this?
— They think it's behavioral deviation. She smiled with subtle mockery. — but, I'm smarter than all of them combined.
A "male" Korr of higher rank entered the room without warning. He stopped upon seeing the strawberry cake, the human woman in soft knitted socks, and another drawing without handcuffs.
—¿Are you getting attached, Llynel?
She turned slowly, her voice as firm as the oldest roots.
— No. I'm educating myself. You think humanity is simple… but they laugh when they cry, fight while they love, hate what they desire. If that's not complex, I don't know what is.
— You're not an ethnologist, you're a xenobiologist. Study their bodies, not their memories.
— Their biology is in their culture. You wouldn't understand because you've never read a book.
The other Korr scoffed with disdain. He left without another word.
Llynel turned back to the reading human with a slight curve in her "face."
—¿What's 'passive-aggressive sarcasm'? I think you used it earlier.
The young woman sighed, handing her the page she was reading.
— Explain it yourself, you crazy plant.
Llynel took the page and began reading it aloud in a monotonous, serious tone. It was an ode to frustrated love in a supermarket.
She didn't understand the title, but she kept the paper for the rest of the night.
.............................
The light hit her face directly through the window again.
"I swear… I'll buy new curtains as soon as I get paid"
Andy thought, lazily reaching for the alarm to turn it off before it dared to ring.
But the moment her fingers brushed a finely crafted wooden surface, far superior to her humble nightstand, her eyes shot open, and she sat up immediately.
It wasn't her imagination or a tactile hallucination. ¡This wasn't her grimy… cozy apartment!
This place felt familiar.
— Wait a second…
lines connected to her, the smell of medicine, cinnamon, and generalized sadness. Things she'd only had the luxury of experiencing once in her life: the time she nearly died from alcohol poisoning.
That time, her brother—freshly promoted to a position of considerable power—had rushed her there like a soul possessed.
Not only did she survive, but she also left with a medical debt so exorbitant that not even her great-grandchildren's grandchildren could pay it off.
Her heart skipped a beat. Fear, resignation, and the certainty that she'd never see a coin in her piggy bank again hit her like a speeding truck. She was on the verge of passing out again for an indefinite amount of time, but after the emotional shock, her mind stabilized and reacted fully.
"Wait… how did I get here?"
The answer came instantly. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she remembered collapsing after finding the Druz'ya's body.
This was bad. Really bad.
In her mind, an avalanche of catastrophic scenarios unfolded mercilessly.
A disappointed Ripley, handing her an endless list of hospital costs, each figure so large it needed scientific notation. Criticizing her for making a bad impression on her colleagues, since he had recommended her. Then the rumors. The mockery. People saying she was so weak, so lazy, that she'd rather faint than keep up with the routine.
And worst of all:
A circle of her acquaintances surrounding her, pointing fingers while shouting in unison:
"¡Slacker!"
Andy brought her hand to her face — I'm going to puke — she muttered — From anxiety or shame, whichever comes first.
¡It would be a huge stain on her resume!
All because of a lack of context…
She wished they'd let her freeze to death. It would've been a less cruel fate. Now it would be even harder to find part time jobs where she didn't have to sell her body.
She wanted to escape through the window, disappear without a trace, wait for her brother to forget this little accident, and feign amnesia whenever anyone mentioned what happened in those damn mountains.
But if she did that, she'd never know about her payment.
Probably reduced. Very reduced.
Maybe in the form of vouchers. Or worse: pizzas.
¡She wouldn't let that happen!
Her dignity might be in the mud, but her bank account still deserved a chance.
She decided not to disconnect the intravenous lines. Something told her that would end badly, and she'd had enough drama for one day. Still, she got up and stood with more ease than she expected.
Something… felt different.
The exhaustion that had been dragging her down for a while was gone. Not reduced, not mitigated: gone.
In fact, she now had energy. Too much energy. As if someone had plugged an industrial battery into her while she slept.
Her joints didn't ache. Her vision was perfect, without a trace of her usual fatigue, despite not wearing her rest glasses.
And if the mirror in front of her wasn't lying, even her dark circles and excess facial fat had vanished. She looked younger than yesterday.
— Hmm… ¿Could it be those auric devices they mentioned on the news?
Apparently, a few extra zeros had been added to her bill.
Hurried footsteps approached the room, along with voices Andy knew very well.
She closed her eyes and braced for the worst.
— ¡I'm telling you, folks, we're talking about imperial vegetation! There's no way to extract the parasite without ripping out her heart... along with her entire nervous system — Dereck said, his gravelly voice reflecting his lack of sleep.
— ¡But… there has to be a way! — replied a voice, raspy with age but filled with a humility and tenderness that made you want to hug him just for hearing it. Beside him, a woman of the same age sobbed, unable to produce any sound other than her cries.
Ripley kept his head down. He had nothing to say. He didn't want to say anything. The spark in his eyes had faded as the silence stretched between them all.
"Slacker!"
The imaginary shout echoed in Andy's head as the door burst open.
— The best I can do is… well, you know — Dereck adjusted his suit's tie, the discomfort making him feel like his clothes were suffocating him — I assure you, it's not pretty to see a plant shooting death spores from someone's chest. This is a Tharril level biohazard, I can't just—
He stopped and frowned, scanning the faces around him. They were so stunned it was as if they'd seen a ghost.
—¿What? ¿Do I have something on my face?
He turned to the same spot everyone was staring at. Then, the medical chart he was holding slipped from his hands and hit the floor with a thud, breaking the silence like a gunshot.
— Holy mother of—!
.............................
The low hum of the Auric Resonance Tomograph filled the room. Greenish light columns scanned Andy's body, projecting a three dimensional map of her organs on the wall. Dereck leaned over the main panel, reviewing the data again and again, as if his gaze could find an error the machine had missed.
— This doesn't make sense — he muttered — ¡It's a damn miracle!
The charts showed a body in optimal condition.
Increased bone density, muscle tissue free of micro-lesions, and an immune system in heightened but perfectly regulated activity. Not a single cell showed degeneration, inflammation, or signs of parasitic damage. Even old scars seemed to have faded.
Under normal conditions, the Vatra Thanocardia would have already fully colonized the sinoatrial node, extending a fibrous network that would consume cardiac tissue and cause lethal arrhythmias. But what he saw didn't match any recorded case.
— No necrosis or residual inflammation — he said quietly, more to himself than to the others. He zoomed in on the heart's image — The muscle fibers are denser and more elastic. The vascular endothelium looks self-regenerated.
Andy's parents exchanged an uncertain glance. Ripley didn't take his eyes off his sister.
The data floated in the air, projected from the central auric panel. A three dimensional image of her heart rotated slowly, illuminated by green and golden pulses. Andy didn't understand any of it, but Dereck's face told her this wasn't exactly good news.
Ripley frowned.
— So… ¿it's gone?
—¿Gone? ¿What are you talking about? — Andy shouted, frowning and looking around. No one responded, not because they wanted to ignore her, but because the microphone by her headrest was disconnected.
Meanwhile, Dereck completely ignored his patient's silent frustration and enlarged the scan projection on the wall.
— The bastard's gone… — he took a deep breath, incredulous — Even the damaged cells have been improved. There's no trace of the parasite, no altered cellular remnants, no ethereal markers indicating anything was extracted.
He paused, approaching the screen to confirm something he couldn't believe himself. — Mitochondrial activity is accelerated. It's like her entire body is operating at a level even elite athletes don't reach.
Andy blinked, processing the statement a second late.
— Oh, sure… optimization, regeneration… and here I was worrying about getting paid in pizzas — she grumbled, then raised her voice. — ¿¡Can someone explain what the hell is going on here?!
No one heard her.
Dereck turned off the TARE, unable to look away from the screen. He didn't know what unsettled him more: Andy's condition or the complete lack of clues about how she got there.
—This is a good thing ¿Right? — Ripley couldn't help but smile. The color had returned to his face.
A chill ran down Dereck's spine.
— ¡I have no freaking clue! — he replied, shutting down the remaining systems before freeing Andy from the giant scanner — I need to call in the cavalry. I'm not exaggerating, this is the first time anyone's survived the Thanocardia.
—¿The Thano-what now? — Andy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Before Dereck could respond, Ripley shoved him aside, nearly sending him crashing into the console, and lunged at his sister, wrapping her in a hug that lifted her off the ground.
—¿Did you hear that? ¡You're cured! — he said, his voice brimming with relief and emotion.
— Oh… really? T-that's… great — Andy replied, forcing a smile as her ribs began to protest.
CRACK
The sharp sound echoed through the room, so clear that even Dereck, who was already turned away checking the console, spun around with a look of alarm.
"¡Damn psychopath!"
Jarek cursed, repairing the small fracture before the freckled girl could scream and force them to put her through the scanner again. If there was one good thing about achieving partial symbiosis with the parasite, it was the blessed "occultation". A biological trick that allowed him and his symbiotic prisoner to remain buried deep in Andy's heart, so fused that they were completely undetectable.
It was almost like being back in his youth. Sharing a tiny apartment with four other broke guys, all hiding from the landlord and surviving on instant noodles. Only stickier.
But better not to take risks.
The technological level of this world kept confusing him more and more. Some things seemed like dusty museum relics, while others were tools straight out of your favorite sci-fi novel.
The smartest move was to stay well hidden, far from any contact with some magical-demonic-ancestral machine that even Dereck didn't fully understand.
Once they left the hospital, he could…
Then, a question he'd been intentionally ignoring since arriving in this world resurfaced, bright and annoying like a lighthouse in the middle of the dark.
¿Now what?
All his goals were accomplished.
Get into human civilization. Secure a stable host. Stop worrying about "food."
But now… he had no plan. If he was honest with himself, he hadn't even expected to get this far. He'd been putting off any long strategy until he found a safe place. Now that he had it, his mind was blank.
¿Stay as an annoying little voice in the head of this starving girl, tossing out sarcastic comments every now and then? The idea wasn't entirely bad, but it sounded more like a punishment than a master plan.
Maybe he could do it for a while, see how far it went before she tried to exorcise him with insults and cheap coffee. After all, there were worse ways to spend the day than watching the disaster that was his life from the front row.
He didn't want to become an antihero like Venom, a sadistic killer like Carnage, or an extreme vigilante like Toxin.
So… ¿Now what?
Jarek curled up even deeper in the heart, determined not to let melancholy seep into his mind.