Chapter 40
Ronan's heart raced, his jaw tightening as he turned back to face the man on the chair. His voice came out controlled, but there was a quiet, simmering anger beneath the surface. "What the hell is this?"
The man didn't respond immediately. His head twitched, the faint hiss of tubes punctuating every shallow breath he took. His lips barely moved, but the voice that followed was cold, distorted, coming through a mechanical speaker above him.
"Progress..." The boss's voice echoed through the room, flat and unnervingly calm.
Ronan's gaze darkened, stepping closer despite the two guards flanking the room, their hands twitching toward their weapons. He ignored them, his attention entirely on the dying man in the chair.
"You call this progress?" Ronan asked, "You're experimenting on people, keeping them in tanks like fish, hooked up like livestock."
