Chapter 2: Chapter 2 – First Dose, First Chains
“Dr. Wynters. You’re late.”
Aria stepped off the elevator into Helix Tower’s Floor 37 neuro-lab, her breath catching at the cold sterility of the space. White walls shimmered with faint holographic readouts. Every surface gleamed as if scrubbed hourly. Surveillance drones tracked her every step.
“I was told seven.” She blinked at the woman blocking her path—mid-40s, military posture, slate gray suit.
“It’s 6:59,” the woman said. “And at Helix, early is on time.”
Aria gave a polite smile. “Noted.”
“I’m Dr. Rashida Teyla. Neuropharmacology. I run this lab.”
Dominic’s voice cut in, amplified through a one-way glass partition above them.
“Correction. *We* run this lab.”
Aria tilted her head. Behind the partition, Dominic reclined in a zero-gravity chair, backlit by electrochromic glass. His silhouette was relaxed—almost bored—but the intensity in his voice said otherwise.
“Begin Phase One,” he instructed.
“Already loaded,” Rashida said. “Step into the scan chamber.”
Aria hesitated before entering the central pod—circular, padded, with a faint hum beneath her boots. The walls glowed faint blue.
A tech approached with a silver tray.
“Prototype-Ø,” he said, holding up a faintly glowing syringe. “Low-dose, intradermal.”
“What’s the compound’s function?” Aria asked.
“Limbic stimulation. We track feedback loops. Scan will show if you’re viable.”
“If?”
Rashida answered dryly. “If you’re not, we start over. Next candidate’s already in prep.”
“I wasn’t told I’d be dosed on day one.”
Dominic’s voice again. “Your signature grants Helix full rights to initial neural assessments, including biochemical trials. Read the fine print, Dr. Wynters?”
“I did,” Aria muttered, bracing herself. “But I didn’t think it would be glowing.”
The needle slipped beneath her skin.
For a moment, nothing.
Then the world tilted.
Aria’s pulse spiked, her knees buckling. She grabbed the chamber wall. A screeching tinnitus erupted in her ears, so sharp she cried out.
Her vitals on the display spiked.
“Spasming,” Rashida noted. “Subject in distress.”
“Get her out,” another tech said.
“No,” Dominic cut in. “Observe.”
Aria writhed, pain ripping through her spine in pulses. The world fuzzed around the edges—red lightning flared behind her eyes.
Then—
Dominic rose from his chair, walking slowly toward the observation glass.
As he approached, Aria’s body sagged. The ringing in her ears dulled. Her breathing slowed.
Calm flooded her, unnatural and absolute.
Rashida stared at the readings. “Stabilization.”
“Proximity-based?” another technician whispered.
Dominic stopped just behind the glass.
“Subject-dependent attenuation confirmed,” Rashida said. “That’s... impossible.”
Dominic smiled faintly.
Aria opened her eyes. She saw him.
And she knew.
“You’re... the stabilizer,” she whispered.
Dominic’s voice came low through the speaker. “You’re more than viable, Aria. You’re pivotal.”
—
The chamber powered down.
In the atrium above the lab, green light filtered through the glass ceiling onto tropical vines curling along metal beams. Aria sat on a bench, wrapped in a Helix thermal blanket, sipping electrolyte water. Her muscles still twitched.
Dominic sat beside her, unnervingly close.
“I should be angry,” she said.
“You are.”
“You manipulated me.”
“I gave you access. You said yes.”
She turned, eyes sharp. “That drug wasn’t trauma therapy. It was dependency engineering.”
“Limbic loop modulation. And yes—your biology is uniquely compatible.”
“With you.”
“Yes.”
Aria gripped the water bottle tighter. “You built a system where I can’t function unless you’re nearby.”
“Incorrect. The dose was experimental. You’ll adapt.”
“Don’t dress it in clinical terms. You’ve hijacked my nervous system.”
Dominic didn’t respond. He plucked a fallen leaf from the bench beside her, twirled it.
“You were selected for your neurochemical resilience. I needed a test subject who could survive multiple stages of adaptation.”
“I’m a neuroscientist. Not a lab rat.”
“You’re both now.”
Her breath caught.
He stood. “You’ll be escorted to your private suite. You’ll have full access to lab interfaces and logs. For your diary, if you’re keeping one.”
She blinked.
“I have a right to privacy,” she said.
Dominic smiled without warmth. “Not here.”
He turned to leave, but paused. “Aria.”
She looked up.
“You’ve already survived more than you remember. Just make sure you survive what’s next.”
—
That night, Aria sat in her suite—a sleek apartment tucked high in the tower, all chrome and hush—and tapped her quantum drive open again.
> **Diary Entry 002**
> He didn’t flinch when I screamed. Only when I calmed.
> He knows. He’s known.
> Dependency wasn’t an accident.
> He thinks I’m his anchor. Or maybe... his chain.
> This isn’t therapy. It’s containment.
> I have to find out who “Echo” is. Or was.
> Tomorrow, I start digging.
> I need to know what part of me he already owns.
Beyond the bulletproof glass, Manhattan flickered like circuitry.
A storm rolled in—violet lightning forking through low clouds.
Inside Aria’s veins, something glowed faintly in time with it.
Not memory.
Not pain.
Something new.
And she wasn’t sure if it was hers anymore.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone