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--- 02:45:36 AM (hh/mm/ss) --- - [Haringale Facility of Biological Research & Genetic Modification / HOD of Genetics Office] -

The silence was quiet - and while this was a seemingly obvious statement, sometimes the room was filled with noisy silence, or rough silence, but late this night, the silence was rather... quiet.

A lone figure sat at the main desk, reading over various success reports, filing away the failures after noting the major issues. The three computer screens behind him on the wall were all blank, no need for being powered so late at night. Another screen on the side of his desk hummed so silently, it may as well have been a light. The person lay down into his high-backed leather chair, his face half in shadows. It was a time of waiting.

A series of tests had been conducted over the past week, and conclusive results were being returned today. Supposedly today anyway, technically it was tomorrow, yet the figure lay trust in the lead researcher to hold her promise. Pulling out a short comb, the figure began straightening the last few strands of hair he had left over his balding head- he was starting to grow a little annoyed that he was up this late.

Three knocks echoed through the room, originating from the mahogany double-doors across from the ageing man. They were short, sharp, concise knocks- her own personal signature. The man hit a button under his desk, unlocking the doors remotely.

"Come in! Come in, Mrs Stanley!"

The knob fumbled a bit before the door lay itself open, showing a middle aged lady in a long white lab coat, stretching almost to the floor. It flew around her as she rushed forward, looking towards the HOD sitting at his desk. Artificial light flowed in from the hallway, revealing the figure in the chair, a man of short stature comprised of a wrinkled face and a stern gaze. Wide rectangle glasses pearched on his thin nose, underneath two solid brown eyebrows that looked as though they were glued to his face.

Some joked his "hair migrated to those 'brows before it turned grey and fell off the top."

Despite his otherwise aged looks, the eyes sparkled intelligent blue behind the glasses. While his facial expression gave no hint to excitement or curiosity, paused into an undying gaze, the eyes flickered and looked at Mrs Stanley, eager to hear her report. Standing off his chair, the man strightened his pure blue tuxedo, adjusting the brown tie. His head was barely two feet above the desk, placed on such a tiny body.

"Well, spit it out Mrs Stanley, I've been waiting all night here."

"Yes sir, sorry Mr Haringale, we were re-running tests to confirm the results, they seemed too good to be true, but they must be the truth! The viral tests worked near perfect, the transformations are successful to a degree, we can..."

"MRS STANLEY.. Calm yourself! Take a seat and summrize your report. I can read your notes in full later."

The researcher, Mrs Stanley took a seat, as did Mr Haringale, gaining a full foot over the desk in the process of jumping up onto the chair.

"Alright alright, summerize, fine.. yes, sir! We tested the H29L55 virus on a set of fifty brown rats, and drove them into a coma as specified. We activated the virus, and it performed without a hitch, cutting apart over half the genome and replacing it with the pre-programmed DNA strings.

Half the test subjects were coded to become black rats, which have a similar yet different genetic makeup than the brown rat. We accelerated the test, and as predicted by theoretical expectations- eleven of the twenty-five could not be ressurected. This corresponds to the Time theorem - The longer the process goes for, the less failiures there will be.

The other half of the subjects were coded to become something completely different - in this case, if you remember, they were to become an invented species. Eglan coded a new species from various databases of alleles and genes, before simulating and compiling them into... a simple fish."

The old man took his glasses off to wipe them a bit, replacing them in a second.

"And so, the results?"

The researcher smiled ferociously, beaming at the old man while clasping her hands together.

"88% sucessful! Three of the twenty five were unable to be resurrected. This means we can move to the next stage of testing - we understand now how to increase safety in both the transformation and viral stages, and the only real tests left are those based around mental health."

"Did the rats show... mental disorders?"

The researcher shook her head, before her smile faded.

"We know that they maintained many mannerisms from being a rat, and as far as we can tell, no damage was suffered. However, we can't say for sure.... unless, our subject could tell us themselves."

The old man kneaded his brow, leaning on the desk with his elbows. He could see where this was going.

"You believe human testing is in order? You do realise what could happen to the research if any incidents were to occur. Not to mentioned, the fact we must support the subjects as fully as possible... hmm..."

"It's a lot to ask Mr Haringale, but this is where all the research was all working towards, was it not? Eglan is preparing new genomes as we speak. It's time to open these doors of science to a new level."

He looked up at the researcher, who had planted her hand on the desk. Wiping his glasses again, he started a low, yet heartwarming chuckle.

"You're just like your mother, did you know that? Fione Stanley, just like her ol' mother Morgan. I will start running through the papers tomorrow, and prepare waivers. I'd like you Mrs Stanley, to organise the surveying of human test subjects and redefining the new goal of these tests. Tomorrow, of course. We all need our sleep sometime."

The lady gave a salute, her coat recoiling in all directions. Her face filled with warmth, hazel eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Got it, sir! I'm so proud that we can make such a big step forward! Have a good night sir!"

"You're welcome, leave as due."

She bounced out the doors, which automatically locked as they shut. The man, Mr Haringale, stood and stretched his tired body before picking up and empty coffee mug to take out as he left.

"Never in my days, did I expect to observe the first human testing of transformation! Ahh, the days, these days..."

As he left the room, the door clicking shut a second time, a new silence echoed through the room. A silence of eagerness, anticipation. A silence of expectations for the future.

--- 10:08:21 AM (hh/mm/ss) --- - [Haringale Facility Topside Entrance / Reception] -

Walking into the white-walled institute, a certain Garrin Fitch was late. Taking a sweeping gaze of the inside of the complex entrance, he approached the reception desk with a vigorous movment. Tapping the bell even though the lady there had already noticed him, he cleared his throat.

"Hey, sorry for being late, I got caught up in the traffic on the way! Mr Fitch, Garrin Fitch here, I heard there was a job offer avalible?"

"Ahh Mr Fitch, yes, you're just over five minutes late. I will also stress that a test subject is not so much a job as a responsibility - or in this case, a privillage. Go down the hall to your right, and take the third door on the left. It's labled 'Mrs Stanley's', she'll be surveying you today."

The reception lady rolled her eyes when Garrin laughed, anyone could tell he was covering his nerves. He had his hands in both pockets of his trousers, the obtusely red sweatshirt he wore stretching as he leaned backwards in stale laughter.

"Ah yes, hall to the right, third on the.. right! got it! Look lively Mrs... helpful desk lady, I might be back to treat you with conversation another day!"

As he strode down the hall in almost a mid-jog, a bead of sweat puncturing the back of his neck, he ignored the lady yelling 'THIRD ON THE LEFT!', and nearly walked into the wrong room. Appologizing to a surprised Dr. James, he turned around and sat himself in the correct room, Mrs Stanley at a computer desk on the other side of him.

"Mr Fitch is it? You're rather late. We'll have less time to do the survey now."

"Ahh yes! Appologies, I have no control of the road conditions now do I! It was a real jam out there today. *phew*"

"No need for excuses, we need to use the time we have wisely. Now, you're looking for a job, is that so?"

"Yes nurse! Test subject it is! Sign me up!"

Mrs Stanley tried to maintain a bit of composure, but her proffesional smile left her otherwise calm complexion. Garrin's eyes darted around eagerly, bright green ones, almost giggling within their own two sockets. Even his hair, sloopy brown hair spiking out over his forhead, seemed to be bouncing with enthusiasm.

"This isn't a nurses uniform, it's a -Lab- coat. This is a research -Lab-. Just, call me Fione. Now, you've been unemployed for, how long now?"

"Only a month, got fired for tardiness from the Cafe Mor'ar-de. Well, that and that waitress couldn't keep her hands off me, I tell you!"

...There was a short silence as the 'nurse' wrote herself a mental note about Mr Fitch.

"I'd like you to tell me about your skills, experience, any certificates, anything at all."

"Welll.. I have a certificate of "Excellent Grades" from highschool! I'd say I'm pretty experienced with talking, and have the skills nessasary to do anything I'm asked. Like swallowing pills, whole, I can do that."

"...How old are you, Mr Fitch?"

"Twenty two, and just a month away from twenty three! So how do my abilities stand?"

"One more thing - what community services or works do you attend?"

"I attend to the Laay-dee's my dear young nurse! Compliments and gifts, I am a man of great compassion for those in sorrow."

Fione smirked at this. As her computer showed, he had absolutely no credentials, in fact, he just barely passed through school. His crooked smile gave away the fact he was more or less lying through his teeth. Yet surprisingly, he qualified for everything they needed in a test subject. Someone vocal, who was more or less useless to society as a whole, and won't matter if they are missing for years on end.

"Alright Garrin, I think that's enough about your skills. How about your relationships? Do you have spouse? girlfriend?"

"Well..."

Shrugging, he shook his head, more sweat showing on his face.

"For all my endowments my dear nurse, I have yet to have the company of a lady for more than ten minutes. I guess most can't stand to be around my.. radiance for too long, ay? *heh.. heh..... aw...*"

"What about parents? Are you still in contact? Any friends you visit regularily?"

His gaze suddenly went unfocused, sullen, before fixating onto Fione's desk. he started twiddling his thumbs together on his lap.

"My mother died half a year ago. Cancer. My father had disappeared three years before that. I sold the house, as it was left to me, and moved into a rental with Larry Goodwind, a friend of mine. I've been making the payments with the leftover money for most the time, getting fired from every job i'm on after only a week or so."

He looked up at Fione, strightening himself, before laughing nervously a bit.

"You could say I kept losing new collegues at every job, so no, I only know Larry."

Fione was struck with a fist full of sympathy - he wasn't just lying now with that statement. It was obvious he had no real relatives or friends, no debt, but no life either. Perfect for a long term test subject! He was looking over the walls now, reading random notices and notes pinned up on a corkboard.

"Well, Garrin, Mr Fitch. I believe you fit the description quite well."

This drew a sparkle of surprise from the man, who quickly hid it behind a confident 'I-always-knew-I'd-get-this-job' smirk. He stood up and held out a slightly sweaty palm to Fione.

"Well, sign me up nursey! I don't care what it is I'm supposed to do, I'll do it!"

"It's our policy to make sure the subject is completly aware of what is expected of them before they sign a contract. This is also... a very long term test. Once you start, it's not easily reversible, and we will be forced to proceed until you completly fufill the initial processes. If you like, I can describe to you what will happen as we tour the facility, if that's fine."

Garrin stroked his hair, before giving an affirmative nod and smile. Fione logged off the computer, then held the door open for Garrin.

"Alright. This shouldn't take more than half an hour... And please! My name is Fione! Either that or Mrs Stanley, but I'm not a nurse!"

His laughing ensued down the hall, as they began walking deeper into the complex...