Wither rubbed his eyelids with a gloved hand, darkened with grime from substances that he did not recognize. His fingers trailed down his cheeks, and as he pulled his hand away, the frigid blue light from the monitors in front of him cast a glow upon his face.

He returned to his labor, twisting knobs and changing the data on the screens with a solitary finger. Some were tapped lightly, others were pushed firmly. Occasionally he shifted his body on the metal platform that supported his rubber-shrouded mass. Hours drifted by, and he became stiff, his mind numb, but he did not pause for a moment. The computers, as advance as they were, had still not been perfected and after the long period of continued use, leaked onto his gloves. But Wither did not notice, he had become obsorbed by his work.

A large screen in the middle of the room dispayed an ovular area, full of dozens of white, round objects. Each was in a seperate tube, quietly buzzing.

Suddenly one of the objects flew off its rack and, still encased, stopped at an opening in the wall. Wither glanced at the screen for a moment before shifting his gaze to another.

Twenty of One Hundred Forty, Batch 5.

Wither tapped the text twice in acknowledgement and watched as the object was pulled from its cell by a mechanical arm. The arm swiveled and dropped the thing down a chute to another room.

Well that's all for right now! I've got pages of this though so I'll post more later, my hand is just a little sore from typing this out. But here's a little bit from the next chapter to keep you inerested!

The white object awoke as it was pulled from its chamber. It did nothing to protest this sudden intrusion though, it was still attempting to understand what it was...