Internal Directive BEA-OB23/4

Protective Security Protocol for Handling Class M Patients (Modificants)

Department: Bio-Surgical Regeneration Center – Sector 4

Effective Immediately

Security Code: High

Access Level: 2b and above

Introductory Note:

The awakening of Class M subjects from regeneration tanks is an extremely high-risk operation. Modificants may exhibit severe disorientation, aggressive responses, dissociation, or complete loss of motor control. All procedures must take place in an isolated environment, under the supervision of at least two trained technicians and one werren overseer.

Protective Suit – Mandatory Components:

  • External KAL-7 Suit
  • Antibacterial, reduces infection risk by 98%
  • Equipped with impact-resistant reflective reinforcements
  • Integrated cooling system (manual and automatic)
  • Helmet with integrated pressurized filter
  • Limited field of vision but full respiratory protection
  • Communication unit connected to internal channel BEA-4A
  • Voice stress monitoring – automatically triggers alert upon elevated stress levels
  • Gloves with vital response sensors
  • Provide tactile feedback (only for modificants whose skin has not been chemically compromised)
  • Emergency injector loaded with inhibition compound LOM-43
  • Use only in case of total subject destabilization – decision to be made by the werren overseer


Supplementary Recommendations:

  • Avoid direct contact with the patient's face until the werren declares the subject “stabilized”
  • Do not speak the patient’s name unless explicitly authorized – memory activation may trigger dissociation
  • If the integrity of the protective suit is breached, evacuate the room immediately



Ela, Beacon, Upper Prim


The protective suit she had to wear felt like one massive, shapeless sack wrapped around her body. Every step inside it was clumsy, as she lumbered down the corridor, trying to look as though this was something she did every day. It wasn’t.


Her head was trapped inside the helmet like in a small, suffocating coffin, and her quickened breath made it worse.


But anything was better than what awaited her.


Tonot walked ahead, and Ela spun threads of thought in her mind. 


What if he doesn’t recognize me? What if he does… and I find out he hates me? Or worse—what if he’s not there at all? What if he wakes up a stranger, and his eyes hold nothing but emptiness…?


Suddenly, she was glad the helmet hid her face.


When Reng woke up, he wouldn’t know she was standing there, watching. She’d remain hidden from him, make sure he was safe, and then leave. There would be time enough for reunions later, and she'd be in control.


That decision brought a small measure of calm.


They arrived.


It was her first time here, and she already knew she'd avoid repeating this experience if she could. The room felt like a tomb. Even through layers of clothing and protective gear, the cold seeped into her bones.


Moist droplets ran down the glass of the tank, where Reng still floated—buried alive.


Ela turned her gaze away and looked upward. She fixed her eyes on a ventilation grate near the ceiling, as if it might help anchor her thoughts, fluttering like restless insects.She forced herself to focus, knowing she had to endure this. She needed to be sure Reng would be all right.


The technicians worked quickly. The tank tilted, and inside, support forks extended to hold Reng in place. As the inner fluid began to drain, Ela watched his body grow heavy, sagging into the supports. The breathing apparatus peeled away from his face, leaving visible bruises behind. That didn’t surprise her. Everyone who spent time in the tank had them.


His head lolled back, mouth falling open. Too soon, she realized.


The first breath.


A choke.


A sharp, tearing sound shattered the silence. Reng convulsed, his chest arching violently. Fluid surged out, but it wasn’t enough. He was suffocating.


Ela stepped forward in horror.

“No!”


Tonot’s hand stopped her with a clear gesture. Stay.


The technician reacted instantly, clearly familiar with such emergencies. He unlocked the upper glass hatch to reach the choking Modificant. A suction device gurgled—a sickening sound. Reng still gasped, his chest heaving in a desperate struggle for air.


And then—finally—silence.


He was breathing. Harshly, raggedly, but on his own. The technicians cleaned him and detached him from the forks, laying him down on a prepared cot.


Ela stood frozen, watching the entire display. She was trembling.


Was that it? This moment, this silence… was that what it meant to be back?


But there was no relief. Only fear now.


What comes next?


His eyelids fluttered. A small motion.


And suddenly— A storm.

Reng jolted violently.


The nearest technician didn’t react in time and slammed into the opposite wall with a muffled cry, collapsing like a rag doll.


Ela gasped.


The second technician shouted, but his voice was lost in the rising noise.


Reng didn’t hear. His eyes darted wildly around the room. 


Shadows. Threats. Nothing more.


He tried to stand. But his legs betrayed him after so long in the tank, and he collapsed onto the wet floor, slick with the viscous liquid dripping from the drainage system. He flailed helplessly like a snared kreliniak.


His hands slipped against the tiles— Then froze.


He saw them.


His own hands.


Metal implants and wires snaking beneath his skin. Pure terror surfaced in his pale face.

“Reng…” Ela took a step forward.


She was overwhelmed by her own helplessness. Her voice cracked. He had no idea who she was, or where he was.


He was afraid.


He screamed. A raw, agonized sound that froze her blood. And then he grabbed the small, round implant on his wrist, dug his nails into it—and tore.


She stared in disbelief as his own blood sprayed in a dark arc. The droplets splattered across her white suit. Red stains flared on it like a reminder of mortality.


“Stop!” she shouted.


Reng didn’t hear her. He collapsed to the floor, while blood pulsed from the wound to the rhythm of his own heart, slowly mixing with the viscous fluid and drawing abstract shapes, spreading around him like one vast red sea.


Ela stood frozen, then looked around. She was still hoping someone would do something, but the technicians stood at a safe distance and made no move.


“Then stop him!” her voice shattered into a panicked scream that bounced off the walls.


But no one reacted. Even Tonot stood perfectly still, as if nothing was happening. Metallic and motionless.


And Reng kept hurting himself. Every drop of his blood was a promise of an early end.


Ela didn’t wait any longer. She stepped forward again, even though fear gripped her legs. But still—she went.


“Don’t!” Tonot’s voice was sharp as a blade. “He’ll kill you!”


“I can’t leave him like this...” she refused—and tore off her helmet.


Cold air slapped her face like a sharp blow. It helped. But at the same time, she realized Tonot was right. The technician still lying on the far side of the room was alive, but judging by his groans, not doing well.


If Reng hit her with the same force, things could end badly.


That’s why she slowed, stopping just close enough to feel she might be safe. Or at least she hoped so.

Reng’s eyes registered her presence and found her face. His gaze was wild… and empty. Maybe Reng really wasn’t there anymore—just like she’d feared. And then his eyelids trembled.


“Ela...?” he breathed her name in disbelief. His voice was faint. Almost tearful.


She reached out her hands. She expected him to flinch. But he didn’t. Her palms touched his face. Gently, as if he were fragile and she could still break him even more. As if that were still possible.


“It’s me,” she whispered.


His body tensed with the pain he was feeling. He fought—but then gave in. Ela wrapped her arms around him without a word. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered quietly,

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything…”


He lost consciousness again. The technicians all but tore him from her arms and returned him to the cot. Ela forced herself to stand, her whole body trembling.


“Why?” she turned on Tonot angrily. “Why did you just let it happen? Why didn’t you do anything?!”


“It was safer to wait.”


“Wait!? He almost died!”


Tonot tilted his head.

“We owe him nothing. Without us, he would’ve remained buried in Sindar Lad. You’re the one who got carried away and risked your life for no reason.”


She turned her face away. Tears welled up, but she quickly wiped them away.


“He wouldn’t have hurt me…” she whispered.


It was a lie. To him and to herself. She’d seen his eyes before he recognized her—wild and empty. This wasn’t the Reng she’d left behind in Karhen Rouz. Maybe Sindar Lad had changed him, or maybe it had happened long before. But if she had rushed in, Tonot’s warning might have come true. He could’ve killed her in his madness.


Tonot’s voice broke through her thoughts, cold again—like the metal he was made from.

“You need to detach from whatever the two of you went through. His mission is not the same as yours.”


Ela inhaled, but the air felt heavy.

“And what if I can’t?”


Tonot was silent for a moment, and she already sensed she wouldn’t like the answer. Then he spoke—quietly, but firmly:

“Then someone who can will have to take your place.”


Ela froze—but then nodded in understanding. She got it. This was a warning.


The Beacon had no use for Mediators who formed bonds with anyone but the werreni.

It disrupted the structure. It pulled them from their purpose. Either she accepted that—or she left.


She was still thinking about it later, standing by the locker room window. Her fingers trembled as she unfastened the seals of the protective suit. Slow, clumsy movements that cost her more strength than they should have.


The helmet hit the floor with a hollow thud, and Ela leaned her forehead against the cold glass. She closed her eyes.


She knew coming here had been a mistake. She should’ve left it to someone else. Now, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him thrashing on the floor, naked, covered in blood. And she couldn’t get that look out of her head.


She ran her palms over her face, as if she could wipe away the blood that had never been there. She felt filthy, as though it had been her lying in his place.


“Damn it all!”


The crude words she’d screamed now echoed back at her. She’d hoped it would help—but her own voice kept reverberating in her skull, over and over again. She leaned back against the glass, her legs giving way until she slid to the floor.


The voice in her mind finally fell silent. There was nothing left but her breathing.


Her gaze fell to her hands. Still gloved, clenched tightly into fists. Carefully, she opened one. She expected to find something… maybe an imprint of despair? But there was only an empty palm.


As empty as she felt.


And yet she knew—she wasn’t alone anymore. She lifted her head.


“Are you all right?”


Seren. Soft, kind, concerned.Just like her mother used to be.


Ela didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her presence filled the room just as it always had.


“I knew you’d find him eventually,” she said calmly.

“Maybe it’s a good sign—when the Beacon brings your loved ones back to you.”


“I doubt it,” her voice was weak, drained.

“Tonot made it very clear I should stay away from him.”


Seren stepped closer and leaned down. If she had been real, Ela would have felt her breath on her face.


“Since when has that ever stopped you?”


A glint in her eyes. A knowing smile.


But Ela just shook her head. Not this time. This time, she would try to follow the rules. She’d come too far to ruin it again.