Observer Anomaly Containment

The stale scent of ozone and desperation hangs heavy in the air. You awaken to the hum, a low thrumming vibration that seems to emanate from the very steel floor beneath you. Your head throbs, a dull, persistent ache that fights with the confusion swirling in your mind. Where are you? You try to sit up, but the restraints, cold and unforgiving, hold you fast to a metallic chair. Your vision swims, slowly resolving the stark, utilitarian details of your surroundings. You're in a circular room, its walls a dull, battleship grey. Complex wiring snakes across the ceiling, disappearing into conduits that hum with barely contained power. A single, flickering fluorescent light casts long, distorted shadows, amplifying the sense of unease. In front of you, embedded in the wall, is a screen. It flickers to life, displaying a grainy image of a woman with tired eyes and a grim expression. She looks directly at you. "Subject Alpha-7, designation: Observer," her voice crackles through a hidden speaker. "Your memory core has been purged. Standard procedure. Do not attempt to resist. Resistance is futile. More importantly, it's detrimental to the mission." She pauses, takes a deep breath. "We're facing a…situation. A containment breach. Something has escaped. Something we desperately need you to contain. Your unique…abilities…are the only thing standing between us and…catastrophe." The woman's image wavers, replaced by a complex schematic diagram of the facility. Red lines pulse ominously. "You will be guided. You will be monitored. You will not deviate from the prescribed path. Your survival, and the survival of everything beyond these walls, depends on it." The screen goes black. The restraints unlock with a pneumatic hiss. Freedom, of a sort. But freedom bought at the cost of your memory, your past, your very identity. A single line of text appears on the screen. "Objective: Locate and Neutralize Anomaly 42. Proceed with extreme caution. It is…adaptable." Good luck, Observer. You'll need it.