The third footage begins without warning, the screen sputtering from black into a skewed, low-angled view of the lab, as though the camera had been dropped and left wherever it landed; its frame tilts slightly, catching Dr. Malrick Voss pacing beside Bella's metal bed, his boots clicking a precise rhythm that contrasts violently with the scene's unnatural tension. Bella is awake this time—barely—her eyelids fluttering like dying shutters, her breaths shallow and tremulous, skin ghostly pale with a faint bluish hue, veins standing out under her stretched, almost translucent skin. Her abdomen has swollen grotesquely, the skin pulled taut in uneven waves as though something inside has developed autonomous strength, testing its boundaries against her fragile frame. "Day three," Voss mutters, voice rasping with a reverence that chills the air, "Episode three of *A Doctor's Silence*… today we witness Rouge's first attempt at communication." He drags a small monitor closer to her bedside; its flickering screen dances with chaotic symbols, jagged shapes, and waves of static, each pulse synchronized eerily with the subtle twitches of her abdomen. "These signals," he whispers, tapping the glass, "are structured. They are responsive. Rouge is thinking. Rouge is calling out." From the tray, he lifts a thin, spider-like neural interface ending in a quivering needle and presses it gently against Bella's temple. She releases a fragile gasp, fingers curling weakly into the mattress, but Voss hushes her, voice soft and unsettlingly tender. "Quiet now. Communication requires obedience." The moment he activates the device, Bella's body arches rigidly, spine lifting from the bed, jaw locked, while the overhead lights flicker and surge as though draining energy from the air itself. The monitor erupts with violent, swirling patterns that gradually sharpen, forming ghostly letters—primitive, broken, but undeniably intelligent. Voss steps toward the camera, breath quick, exhilarated. "Observe carefully. Rouge is awake. Rouge is learning. Rouge is aware. Curious." A low, resonant thump echoes from inside Bella's abdomen, powerful enough to distort the blanket; her breath stutters, tears spilling freely as another thump follows, then a slow, dragging motion beneath her skin, deliberate, like a hand probing from the inside. "Magnificent," Voss whispers, hand pressing over her stomach with eerie pride. Before Bella can respond, the lab plunges into absolute darkness for several seconds, until a dim red emergency glow bathes the room, casting long, grotesque shadows. In the low light, the shape inside Bella moves deliberately, almost exploratory, adapting to the darkness. Voss lifts the camera, bringing it near her trembling face. "Observe her pupils," he murmurs. "Rouge's consciousness is merging with hers. She's perceiving fragments of its mind." Her eyes dart wildly, lips shaping silent words. Voss leans closer. "Tell them what you see." Bella's whole body convulses; in a voice thin and fragile as cracking glass, she whispers, "It's… awake…" Moments later, the footage erupts into static, a deep, intelligent pulse flooding the audio—steady, rhythmic, undeniably alive, as though the very lab itself were aware and waiting. Next episode will be beautiful. Goodbye children
