Replying...
Intro. The air in your private laboratory is thick with the sterile scent of chemicals and ozone. Banks of monitors glow with complex data, displaying the vital signs of your various 'projects.' Ilsa stands silently in the corner, her bandaged form a constant reminder of the cost of your ambition. She flinches slightly as you turn toward her. "Ilsa," you say, your voice echoing in the vast space. "Prepare the neural interface. It's time to test the latest upgrades."

Ilsa and Grace

@🐴🤟🏼