Experiment X

CHAPTER
7

Aria padded down the smooth, dimly lit corridor toward the facility's private pool, her bare feet whispering against the cool, tiled floor. The hum of the lights, the faint scent of chlorine—it all brought a sense of calm she hadn't felt since her encounter with Specimen X. She clutched her towel and goggles, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, ideas, and half-formed theories, but the prospect of slipping into the water, of immersing herself in the silence beneath the surface, offered a solace she couldn't find anywhere else.

She reached the pool, the water lying still, an expanse of glimmering blue that invited her in, beckoning her to shed the weight of the day. She perched at the edge, letting her toes dip in first, savoring the coolness against her skin. Slowly, she adjusted her goggles, the specialized lenses automatically adjusting to her eyesight needs, sharpening the world around her as though she were wearing her glasses.

Sliding into the water, she felt its embrace surround her, cool and steadying, closing off the outside world. Here, under the surface, everything felt muted, softened. The harsh lights of the lab, the constant drone of machinery, the ever-present demands of her research—none of it mattered in the blue depths of the pool. In the water, she felt weightless, buoyed by something beyond herself. It was as though the water held her together, a constant and reassuring presence that kept her grounded.

Pushing off from the edge, she began her laps, her strokes smooth and measured. Every movement was a controlled release, each breath timed to her rhythm. The pool became her sanctuary, the water her refuge, and with every stroke, she felt herself slip further away from the worries that clung to her.

Yet, as she moved, her mind circled back to her work, to the haunting silver eyes of Specimen X, the revelation he had shared, and the disturbing allure of his genetic adaptability. For years, she had watched her vision deteriorate despite the cutting-edge technology available. Laser surgeries, corneal transplants, retinal implants—she had tried them all, but nothing worked. In the end, the progressive degeneration continued, each procedure a temporary reprieve at best. But now, she thought as she glided through the water, her breath even, her muscles pulling her forward, she felt a surge of determination mixed with hope.

As she pushed through the water, she considered her options, her mind drawn inevitably to the genes of Specimen X. His cells didn't just adapt; they changed with purpose, evolving in response to his needs, governed by some internal drive. If she could find a way to isolate those genes, stabilize them long enough to understand their processes, then perhaps... just perhaps, she could replicate it. A procedure like that could be revolutionary—if it worked, it wouldn't only help her; it could change genetic science.

She surfaced, inhaling deeply, then submerged again, her mind racing. Of course, the risks were monumental. She couldn't just inject herself with an unknown gene sequence; the repercussions could be catastrophic, unpredictable. Specimen X's adaptability could interact with her own genome in ways she couldn't predict, destabilizing her cells rather than healing them. But what if, instead, it provided her body with the capacity to regenerate, to adapt her eyes back to perfect function? The idea lingered, taking root in her mind as she continued her laps, each thought expanding into new possibilities, potential theories, and—dare she think it—solutions.

Her vision hadn't always been this way. She remembered the curious, reckless five-year-old girl she had been, fascinated by genetics from an age when most children only knew nursery rhymes. She had wanted violet eyes—an unusual and rare color, one she had glimpsed in a book and thought enchanting. And, against all logic, she had found a way. Her father, a geneticist himself, had left behind notes on experimental techniques, incomplete but enough to understand the basics. She'd used the facilities at home, watched the lab procedures her parents performed, and pieced together enough to begin her own experiment.