By morning, before heading to Playcare, Yazmina received an unexpected summon.

Leith Pierre had requested her presence in the underground laboratory, insisting that she familiarize herself with the facility.

More importantly, he intended to introduce her to the head chemist-the one she'd be working with on the Poppy Gas project.

Yazmina didn't protest.

If anything, she was curious.

As she stepped into the elevator, descending deeper into the factory's hidden levels, a faint hum of machinery pulsed through the walls.

The air grew colder, laced with the sterile scent of chemicals and something faintly metallic.

When the doors slid open, she was met with a long, dimly lit hallway lined with reinforced glass panels.

The descent into the lab was eerily quiet.

Beyond them, she caught glimpses of various experiments in progress-rows of vials containing substances she couldn't yet identify.

Yazmina observed the equipment, the vials filled with shimmering substances, and the rows of cages containing small animals-rabbits, mice, and birds.

Leith was already waiting for her at the entrance to the lab, arms crossed, his usual smirk in place.

"Welcome to the heart of our operations, Doctor De la Vega," he said smoothly, gesturing for her to follow.

She stepped in without hesitation.

The laboratory was massive, lined with metal workstations cluttered with chemical apparatus, glowing monitors displaying complex formulas, and overhead lights that flickered slightly, casting everything in a pale, artificial glow.

The scent of something acrid filled the air-something vaguely sweet yet unmistakably toxic.

At the far end of the room stood a man in a pristine white lab coat, his back to them as he carefully measured a bright crimson liquid into a vial.

Leith led her forward. "Doctor Yazmina Fleur De la Vega, meet our head chemist-Doctor Wallace Crane."

At the sound of his name, the man finally turned.

Yazmina took him in immediately-mid-40s, sharp blue eyes framed by rectangular glasses, his dark hair streaked with early gray.

His expression was unreadable, his gaze assessing her just as she was him.

"So, you're the new addition," Wallace murmured, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism. "Let's see if you're worth the trouble."

Yazmina smiled, unfazed. "By all means, Doctor Crane."

Wallace Crane regarded her for a long moment before turning back to his work, placing the vial onto a metal tray with practiced precision. "I assume you've reviewed the preliminary research on Poppy Gas?"

Yazmina stepped closer, letting her fingers glide over the cool surface of one of the metal workstations. "Of course," she said smoothly.

"The previous test results were... interesting."

"Interesting?" Wallace let out a short, humorless chuckle. "That's one way to put it. But we're nowhere near perfection. The current formula is unstable. Too many variables, too many unknowns."

He reached for a glass container filled with a thick, amber-colored substance. "Our goal isn't just to create a gas that incapacitates-it has to be controllable, precise. Right now, it's anything but that."

Leith, watching the exchange with mild amusement, leaned against a nearby table. "That's why we brought you in, Yazmina. We need fresh eyes on the project. Maybe you'll see something we don't."

Yazmina tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "And what exactly are the... side effects we're working with?"

Wallace exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "The usual-loss of higher cognitive functions, erratic aggression in some subjects, complete compliance in others. But there's one reaction we can't predict. Some test subjects-very few-experience a surge in neural activity just before collapse."

He turned to Yazmina, eyes sharp. "You wouldn't happen to have any theories on that, would you?"

Yazmina hid her smirk. Oh, she had theories. She had experience. But she wasn't about to hand them over so easily.

"Perhaps," she said lightly, running a finger along the edge of a vial. "But I'd need more data before drawing conclusions."

Wallace studied her, as if trying to gauge whether she was bluffing. Then, with a nod, he gestured toward a stack of thick binders on the table. "Then start here. These contain the most recent experiments, along with chemical breakdowns of every iteration we've tested. Study them. Tomorrow, I want your thoughts."

Yazmina took one of the binders, flipping through the pages. The reports were meticulous, each experiment carefully cataloged-dosage levels, subject responses, long-term effects.

Some of the notes were scrawled in Wallace's tight, sharp handwriting, filled with theories and frustrated corrections.

She liked it.

This was real research, the kind that pushed the limits of what was possible.

And if she played her cards right, she could take control of it.

Leith stretched lazily, glancing at the clock. "Well, I'll leave you two geniuses to it. I have more important things to do."

He turned to Yazmina with a smirk. "Try not to blow up the lab."

She shot him an unimpressed look. "No promises."

With a chuckle, Leith disappeared down the hallway, leaving her alone with Wallace.

The head chemist regarded her for another long moment before sighing and returning to his work. "I don't care what kind of reputation you have, De la Vega. If you're serious about this project, prove it. Otherwise, don't waste my time."

Yazmina merely smiled, closing the binder with a quiet snap.

"Oh, Doctor Crane," she murmured.

"You'll see soon enough."

And with that, she pulled up a chair and got to work.

For hours, Yazmina immersed herself in the research, flipping through pages filled with complex chemical breakdowns, reaction logs, and unsettling accounts of past experiments.

The deeper she dug, the more fascinated she became.

The Poppy Gas was unlike anything she had encountered before. It was more than just a sedative, more than just a mind-altering substance-it was a tool, a weapon, something that could change the very essence of a person.

She read through the notes on failed test subjects, their brains either shutting down or going into unpredictable overdrive.

Some lost all sense of self, becoming mindless husks.

Others developed heightened aggression, tearing at their own skin or attacking the nearest living thing.

But the rare cases-the ones that Wallace had barely touched upon-were the most intriguing.

A handful of test subjects experienced something different. Instead of losing themselves, they became... something else.

Their neural pathways surged with activity, their cognitive functions skyrocketing before the inevitable collapse.

Yazmina tapped her fingers against the table.

Why them? What made them different?

She wanted to know.

No-she needed to know.

"You're still here?" Wallace's voice pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up to see him watching her with mild surprise, a cup of coffee in his hands.

Yazmina smirked. "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

Wallace scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. "Careful. That kind of obsession gets people in trouble around here."

She leaned back in her chair, stretching. "Trouble doesn't scare me, Doctor."

Wallace studied her for a moment before shaking his head. "Just don't get any ideas about testing things yourself. This gas is unstable. Even we don't fully understand its effects yet."

Yazmina merely hummed in response. But as Wallace turned back to his work, a dangerous glint flashed in her eyes.

Oh, but I will understand it, she thought.

I'll understand it better than anyone else.

For the first time in a long while, she felt truly excited.

Her journey into the depths of Playcare had only just begun.

And she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.