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Artist
Inside the third sublevel of the N’Kara Containment Wing, Dr. Hollen remains alone. His suit—a relic from an older era of biodefense—is streaked with decades of decay and defiance. Before him, the bioluminescent cortex hums with impossible thought.
The brain was never meant to glow. Its synaptic roots twitch and writhe like neural kelp in a glass sea. Gas, once dormant, now pulses with intelligence. The seals are holding. Barely.
This isn’t resurrection. It’s not cloning. It’s remembering something the species forgot to fear.
