Mind Chatter

He had lost all sense of time, drifting in and out of a deep, dreamless slumber. When he finally opened his eyes, his head throbbed and every muscle felt stiff as stone. Slowly, each movement causing pain, he struggled to rise from his bed and stumbled to the door, testing the handle with trembling fingers. Despite a small glimmer of hope, the door remained firmly locked, just as he had expected.

After these extraordinary and traumatic events, he struggled to gather his thoughts and find a way out of this complex situation. Perhaps a shower would help clear his mind.

As he stepped into the shower stall, water began spraying from countless holes that opened in the ceiling—a sign of modern technology. Caught off guard, he jumped back quickly. The moment he left the stall, sensors detected his absence and the holes instantly closed. His clothes were already soaking wet.

"I feel like a child," he thought while removing his wet clothes. As he examined his body, an unexpected sight greeted him—his entire lower body, from feet to chest, was covered in a metallic texture. His eyes unwillingly drifted to his genitals, now completely gray. He hesitantly ran his fingers over the foreign material; it had a strange skin-like texture, but it definitely wasn't human. Below his chest were nail-like connection points securing this metallic covering to his body. With each touch of these metal pieces, the reality that his body was no longer entirely his own became more apparent.

As he prepared to step back into the shower, he caught his reflection in the wall mirror. He stared at the man before him, hypnotized. Was this really him? Sharp brown eyes with a tired gaze, messy black hair falling just above his eyes, an unkempt beard... Everything looked normal and familiar on the surface, but something inside screamed that nothing was normal. He had no idea who this stranger in the mirror was. More frightening still, he couldn't remember what his real face had looked like. Was this his face from before he died? He added this thought to his growing list of unanswered questions and tried not to dwell on it.

The shower stall seemed to read his mind—the water temperature adjusted perfectly, its soft steam purifying his lungs. He sat down, trying to empty his thoughts. He closed his eyes and focused only on the peaceful sensation of warm water against his skin.

Half an hour later, feeling renewed, he stepped out. It took a moment to notice Aleah sitting silently on his bed. He instinctively turned away, hastily covering himself.

"Couldn't you have knocked?" he asked, discomfort evident in his voice.

"I did knock but you didn't answer. Besides, you needn't be embarrassed. I was specially assigned to monitor you closely. Think of me as your personal doctor. Nudity isn't important—who do you think put you back together? I didn't do it while you were clothed."

"There's a huge difference between that situation and this one. Don't expect gratitude for bringing me back to life. Being my doctor doesn't mean you can see me naked whenever you want!"

"Aww."

"What do you mean 'aww'!"

Aleah stood and headed for the door while the man carefully turned his body, following her movements.

"I'll do your final checks, then you'll receive your first assignment. Come with me."

"What assignment? I'm not doing anyth—" Before he could finish, it felt like hundreds of volts struck his body. The torture lasted five seconds. "Whatever you've put in me, take it out right now! You can't force me to—" The shocking began again, this time lasting ten agonizing seconds.

"You'd better stop. The more you resist, the worse it gets. Put your clothes on and return to the room where you woke up yesterday."

"My clothes... are wet..." he gasped, doubled over in pain.

"You can come naked too, I don't mind." she said before leaving.

"Damn woman! Damn these people! This situation won't last forever—I'll find a way to escape." he muttered angrily.

He paced the room, trying to evaluate his situation with a cool head. Kept in deep sleep for seven thousand years, strange metal parts installed in his body, and now they expected something from him. These facts seemed more absurd with each passing second.

He knew panic would do no good. First, he needed to accept his situation calmly, then find a way to escape. For now, the most logical option was to play along and gain their trust.

He looked helplessly at his soaking clothes. "I wonder if there are any others?" he thought hopefully, glancing around. In a small closet in the corner, he found several plain, gray garments. Relieved, he quickly changed.

"At least they showed the courtesy of providing clean clothes," he muttered sarcastically.

He left the room and carefully retraced yesterday's path down the corridor. He noticed there were no windows anywhere—it felt like an underground prison. At the corridor's end, he spotted the familiar door from yesterday.

The door had no handle. As he reached to touch it, red lights danced over him, and it silently opened. "I know how this works!" he thought with childlike excitement.

Inside, he found Aleah sitting at an impressive machine that dominated the room. Its metallic surface gleamed like a mirror, countless holographic screens pulsing hypnotically. In the center, blue liquid undulated within a crystal cylinder. Along the sides, small tanks held floating translucent tissues at various stages of development—some still forming, others nearly identical to human tissue.

"What is this machine?" he asked, mesmerized by the screen.

"Genetic Encoder. It reconfigures nanomachines according to tissue samples and measurements I input."

"So what exactly does it do?" he repeated, confused.

"I assemble body parts here."

"I see. Now tell me about this assignment."

"I don't know. You need to talk to Consultant Zeta."

"I hate that man."

"Nothing I can do about it."

Bored of waiting, he tapped out a rhythm with his feet. Soon, a bright green light appeared on the screen.

"Complete and error-free!" The woman squealed with joy.

One tank's liquid began draining automatically. Once empty, Aleah carefully opened the lid and removed a bright purple, palm-sized ball.

"Strip." she commanded with professional seriousness.

"Can't we do this without stripping?"

She shook her head firmly. Reluctantly, he removed his gray shirt. She gestured for more. Despite his reluctance, he complied completely. Though being gray from chest down offered some comfort, he couldn't shake his embarrassment.

She pressed the purple ball against his stomach. It flattened instantly like clay, spreading across his body hypnotically. Every gray area glowed purple before fading to natural human skin. His body looked perfect, as if it had never changed. As he now resembled a real human again, his embarrassment returned, and he turned away reflexively.

"Let me look at my masterpiece!" she exclaimed, jumping up.

"Which part are you calling a masterpiece?"

"I designed your entire body. My superiors only asked for a healthy-looking form. I won't lie—I made it how I wanted it. You're lucky, I gave you an amazing body."

"I'm not stripping for you again, get that into your head."

"It doesn't matter, you'll have to strip for necessary procedures anyway."

He exhaled angrily.

"Where am I meeting Zeta?"

"At the restaurant across the street."

"So there are still restaurants after seven thousand years."

"If you're spending too much time in alternative reality, I suggest cutting back."

"What's that?"

"We'll discuss that another time. For now, let's focus on getting you ready for the meeting. You need to wear the proper uniform for your position," she said professionally. She reached for an ornate wooden box with gold trim beside her, carefully opened it, and removed neatly folded clothes that had been specially chosen, holding them out to him.

Still naked, he dressed quickly without thinking. First came elastic, high-quality leather pants with red and brown straps, secured by an embroidered brown belt. Over a thin black shirt, he donned an elaborate black and red vest with gold embroidery. He added an elegant brown leather cape reaching his shoulder blades, noting the gold emblem at its neck. "How much gold did they use?" he wondered.

"What's this?" he asked, pointing to the badge.

"I don't know, best to ask management. Like Consultant Zeta."

Finally, after pulling on high-quality black and red gloves and comfortable boots, he was ready. "Let's see what he wants from me..." he thought anxiously before leaving the room.