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Impulse

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What was this feeling? To stand close to Subject 117, to breathe him in, to touch him…

“Cain, what is it?” Gia stared at him from behind the safety of her console. It was only to easy to grab her, to lick up salt. To indulge himself in the sensual pleasures which would distract Cain from his attraction to Subject 117.

Perhaps something was wrong with his husk. Perhaps Joshua Bridges had left a trace of himself behind. Cain would cheerfully fry 117’s brain in this experiment, yet he was distracted by this impulse.

Had Joshua felt this, too? What had it been like for the acolyte who’d genuinely admired 117? Who’d betrayed the Gua for him?

Cain found he didn’t want to know.