There was a bit of a crisis in Dormitory C the following morning. A
student in Room 105 was heard crying for help, and his pleas became
more and more panicked as time went on. His commotion caused the students
around him to stir, and soon their increased worry drew the attention
of the doctors and physicians in that Sector. Over time the hallway
was cordoned off and a security team was put into place to ward off
the increasing number of spectators who were showing up to get a glimpse
of the unfolding drama.
The student in Room 105 was Crynon, and his cellular composition was
able to modify itself in order to mimic the structures and surfaces
around him. In an ideal world, this would allow him to camouflage himself
within his surroundings and even add strength and durability to his
anatomy, should he choose to press against a sturdy and dense material.
Now his molecules were becoming overzealous in their attempts to blend
in. Not only was his skin taking on the properties of the mattress and
bedding around him, but his atoms were bonding to it, so that he and
the bed were slowly becoming one. The more he struggled, the more his
ability urged his biological makeup to adapt. He was sinking into the
mattress, and the air pockets within the polyfoam were absorbing his
arteries and filling with blood. His bones drifted away from each other
and became spongy. His veins rewrote themselves and began pumping blood
to the corners of the bed. And still he screamed and cried out for help.
The doctors in the room became more frantic as Crynon's discomfort elevated,
and with X-Ray goggles strapped to their heads they trained their surgical
lasers on the sections that were not yet a part of Crynon's anatomy,
seeking to separate living tissue from everything else. When this became
too daunting of a task they sent in robots with microscopic blades to
cut into him with better precision. The parts that were still Crynon
were cauterized and slowly removed from the polyfoam.
Rohm, forever pacing the floors of all available Sectors, happened upon
the scene and stood still for an instant as curiosity took hold. A few
heads turned his way for a second before looking back at the scene at
the end of the hall. Rohm, not satisfied with his vantage point, carefully
maneuvered his way around students, making sure to only graze them when
necessary. In a fraction of a second he was at the threshold of Room
105. He weaved his way between security and doctors to get a closer
look - slipping his way past medical and military personal faster than
it took someone to blink. He managed to quickly step around the bed
and see what was happening. Machines were cutting into what looked like
a student enveloped in a fleshy cocoon. There was the smell of burning
skin in the air and the hissing of blood as it came in contact with
white-hot lasers. It took Rohm a moment to process the scene and he
faltered, becoming material for half a second. He felt himself brush
up against a surgeon and panicked. He turned and fled, becoming a stream
of mercurial light that slid through the small crowd and knocked the
onlookers into the walls. For a moment he caught sight of the girl with
grey skin and rainbow eyes amongst the crowd, and he felt a pang of
regret knowing that she would topple as the people around her were thrown
back by the force of his sudden departure.
He spent the rest of the day by himself, shunning the company of others.
He was solitary by nature to begin with, but the image of the student
in Room 105 haunted him, and he just wanted to be alone.