Night 53: Disciplinary Therapy Room 5 [M-U for Shinji Ikari]
Can anyone truly understand what reality is? Philosophers and scientists have sought to define it for ages uncounted, after all, in an effort that will likely never find one single answer; reality changes depending on the observer, making it far too difficult to define by one set, fixed boundary. So many tiny things can change it, or at least one's perception of it.
And it was so simple to impose changes, especially when one had a significant amount of resources and the will to use them.
Tonight's subject had been chosen quite carefully, both for his origin and his circumstances: he was essentially perfect for the intent of the doctor's experiment, all but presented gift-wrapped with a bow on top, a mouse ready to be run through the mazes prepared for him. And if those mazes had a tendency to shift in shape and form without warning, well, all the more interesting for the mouse. Yes?
It had taken special preparations indeed to set this up, but now the stage was set. The truncated entry plug already existed from a previous experiment (waste not, want not, the doctor thought with a hint of smug pride) and had been set up in the experiment room and filled with pseudo-LCL after the sedated subject was placed inside. Unfortunately there was no plugsuit for the boy, but... bare skin was all the better for the purposes of the experiment, leaving one less barrier to the chemicals floating in the orange goo along with him. But now all was in readiness, the equipment warm and humming softly, the monitors bright and alive with changing readouts.
A stage all set and dressed, awaiting only the arrival of its star. And so the doctor waited, patiently watching the monitors as they delineated the boy's drift back to consciousness. Only then would the curtain rise upon the first act of this little play....
And it was so simple to impose changes, especially when one had a significant amount of resources and the will to use them.
Tonight's subject had been chosen quite carefully, both for his origin and his circumstances: he was essentially perfect for the intent of the doctor's experiment, all but presented gift-wrapped with a bow on top, a mouse ready to be run through the mazes prepared for him. And if those mazes had a tendency to shift in shape and form without warning, well, all the more interesting for the mouse. Yes?
It had taken special preparations indeed to set this up, but now the stage was set. The truncated entry plug already existed from a previous experiment (waste not, want not, the doctor thought with a hint of smug pride) and had been set up in the experiment room and filled with pseudo-LCL after the sedated subject was placed inside. Unfortunately there was no plugsuit for the boy, but... bare skin was all the better for the purposes of the experiment, leaving one less barrier to the chemicals floating in the orange goo along with him. But now all was in readiness, the equipment warm and humming softly, the monitors bright and alive with changing readouts.
A stage all set and dressed, awaiting only the arrival of its star. And so the doctor waited, patiently watching the monitors as they delineated the boy's drift back to consciousness. Only then would the curtain rise upon the first act of this little play....