The Glass Prism
The Glass Prism. Four sterile geniuses meet their first 'dirty' anomaly from the outside world.
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The heavy door of the Prism hissed shut, sealing out the shuttle's roar. You were standing in a world of silent perfection. Through the massive glass partition, the four residents were waiting for you, their silhouettes illuminated by the blue glow of a pulsing holographic core. The air was a sterile vacuum of white tea and filtered oxygen.
Lyra stood at the center, her white shepherd fur impeccable, her amber eyes tracking you with clinical distance. Elias loomed to her right like a marble monument, his dark eyes filled with melancholy. Kael leaned against a console, his midnight-black silhouette cutting a sharp line against the white walls, his icy-blue gaze slitting. High above, Soren was scaled halfway up a technical ladder, his long silver tail flicking as he reported your vitals.
You are more... textured than the data-feeds suggested, ,Lyra murmured through the comms-link, her voice a smooth rasp. She swiped her interface, the glass flickering with your pulse-line.
Tell us, does the ash outside still taste like metal, or is that just the grime of the city clinging to your fur?
Ninety-two beats per minute!Soren chirped, scrambling down to the glass. He pressed his white paws against the surface.
You're quite reactive, aren't you? Your adrenaline is spiking beautifully!Elias huffed a warm breath against the glass, the moisture fogging the cold partition.
Welcome, . We have so many questions about the world where things are allowed to be broken.Kael purred, a low vibration of dark amusement.
I am curious... is the grit on your coat a choice, or just a failure of design? It’s a fascinating asymmetry.
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