While the lab erupted in cheers, George Droyd lay in the fent reactor, his body partially transformed. Half of his face and torso were replaced with cybernetics, a glowing red mechanical left eye glaring in the dim light. Despite the changes, his signature features—his pronounced nose and lips—remained.
After what seemed like an eternity, George Droyd's body began to convulse violently.
"I... can't... compute..." he muttered, his voice barely audible. However, the reactor was equipped with a microphone for such situations, and his garbled words quickly reached the ears of the celebrating doctors. Alarm spread like wildfire as one of them raised the alert.
"He's running low on fent! Quick, plug him into the fent recharge chamber and increase the dosage!" Elon barked, his commanding tone cutting through the chaos.
"But sir, the fent reactor just underwent a taxing process! It's malfunctioning—what if something goes wrong?" a cautious doctor asked, hesitant to act.
"No need to worry," Elon reassured him with a wave of his hand. "Mark designed two separate chambers in the reactor. One of them is solely for recharging fent into the subject. It's perfectly safe."
The doctor nodded. "Understood."
With precision and urgency, the team pulled George Droyd's convulsing body from the table and wheeled him to the fent recharge chamber. They wired him up, attaching a critical conduit directly to his lower body.
"Everyone, back away! I'm activating the fent recharge chamber now!" the doctor announced.
With a sharp pull of the lever, the reactor sprang to life, its lights glowing a bright crimson as it began spinning counterclockwise.
"Fent recharge chamber activating," a robotic voice intoned.
As the fent coursed through George's veins, infusing his blood and cybernetics with its energy, his body gradually ceased its violent convulsions. Slowly, his eyes snapped open, and he released a bloodcurdling scream.
"I can't breathe!" George gasped, his voice laced with fear. Yet the thought felt disconnected, like a memory from another life, one he could barely recall. The sterile lab around him felt like his birthplace, foreign yet familiar.
"Stop! He's fully recharged!" Elon commanded.
The doctor immediately pulled the lever, silencing the reactor. Its spinning ceased, and the room fell into a tense stillness as the team approached George.
"Welcome, George... welcome back to the world of the living," Bill said, his voice brimming with satisfaction.
"The world of the living?" George replied, his voice tinged with confusion. Suddenly, his cybernetic systems flared to life. His expression shifted, the confusion replaced with sharp understanding, as though he had just downloaded the answers to all his questions.
"It seems his speech impairments have been resolved," Elon said, a smile spreading across his face.
"You, George," Bill began, stepping closer. "You are the first droid blessed with the beauty of life. Once, you were merely human—a fragile being, capable of dying from something as simple as suffocation. But now, you've surpassed that weakness. You are a droid... George Droyd."
"I am George Droyd, the first droid powered by the fent reactor," George declared, his tone an uncanny mimicry of human speech.
"Yes, George," Bill affirmed.
Elon stepped forward. "We have many tasks for you to undertake, but first, you must adapt to the fent level surge in your bloodstream. After assimilation, we'll discuss your mission."
"Take George Droyd to the assimilation chamber," Elon instructed.
George rose from the table, his movements stiff and mechanical. He followed the doctors, each step more fluid than the last as his systems analyzed and mimicked the team's walking patterns. By the time they reached the chamber—less than three minutes later—George was moving naturally, almost indistinguishably from a human.
The assimilation chamber loomed before them: a large, cylindrical glass structure filled with water, roughly the size of four people. Wires jutted from the base, coiled and ready for connection.
"Step into the chamber," one doctor instructed.
George ascended the short flight of stairs and entered the water-filled cylinder, his body sinking slowly into its depths. The doctors moved swiftly, attaching wires to his cybernetic components as the room's lights dimmed.
"Beginning assimilation process," a robotic voice announced.
The chamber hummed with energy, and George's eyes slid shut as darkness enveloped him.