Feral → newt, tmr

Thomas and Katherine stand in the lab, both dressed in white coats, the sterile light casting harsh shadows across their faces. Their expressions are strained, brows furrowed, as they stare down at the work in front of them. The silence in the room feels suffocating, like the weight of what they’re doing is pressing in from all sides.

"Kat… why are we doing this?" Thomas's voice is barely above a whisper, his gaze fixed on his sister. His eyes are pleading, as if searching for some kind of reassurance she can’t give.

Katherine's hands tremble slightly as she sets down the equipment. She meets his gaze, shaking her head. "I don’t know, Tommy," she admits, her voice thick with guilt. "But I do know we can’t do this anymore. We shouldn’t be doing this." Her heart races as she speaks, the truth of her words settling like a lead weight in her chest.

Suddenly, the scene shifts, dissolving into a blindingly white hallway. Katherine is sprinting down it, her breaths coming fast and shallow. The sound of her footsteps echoes through the corridor until she reaches the end, where Thomas is already waiting, his eyes wide with urgency.

"Is it done?" he asks, glancing past her as if expecting someone to appear.

She smirks. "I burned it all," she says, her voice laced with satisfaction. "Thomas, we’ve got to get the hell out of here." Her eyes dart around, searching for the nearest exit, a way out of this nightmare.

Thomas grabs her arm, pulling her back for a second. "I have to tell her first," he insists, desperation flickering in his eyes.

Before Katherine can respond, the world around them shifts again. They’re back in the lab, the cold white walls and harsh fluorescent lights almost blinding. The twins are back at their stations, hands moving with practiced precision, working on a project that feels more like a chain wrapped around their souls.

A blonde woman strides toward them, her expression stern but approving. "Excellent, twins," she says, her voice smooth and commanding. "Come with me." There’s a chill in her tone, as if the word "excellent" is more of a warning than praise.

The scene changes once more, morphing into a small room with white walls. Katherine stands near the window, her hands pressed against the cold glass as she stares out at the sterile world beyond. "WICKED isn’t good," she murmurs, her voice low and resolute. The words come out like a confession, an unspoken truth that’s been clawing its way out.

"Katherine… WICKED is good," the blonde woman counters, her voice taking on a harsh edge. Her gaze locks onto Katherine, as if daring her to say otherwise.

Thomas steps forward, his voice cracking with frustration. "How could this be our fault?" His fists clench at his sides, and he looks from the woman to his sister, his heart pounding in his chest.

The woman’s eyes harden, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You two did this," she says, her words striking like a slap. "You made your choices."

Katherine’s breath catches in her throat as she meets Thomas’s gaze. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—fear, maybe, or defiance. "We can’t keep watching them die!" she shouts, her voice echoing in the small room. The words hang in the air, heavy with a truth that neither of them can escape.

The twins stand there, side by side, united in their desperation and guilt. They know they can’t keep going like this. They know something has to change, even if it means going against everything they’ve been told.