The serum coursed through Alexei's veins, a warmth that spread like wildfire through his body. It began as a gentle hum, a subtle tingle in his fingertips and the soles of his feet. But as the seconds ticked by, the sensation grew, evolving into a full-body jolt that left him breathless. His heart raced, his pulse pounding in his ears as the world around him seemed to shift, ever so slightly, out of focus.

  Dr. Voss watched him with an unreadable expression, her hands resting behind her back. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors tracking his vitals. "This is normal," she said, her voice calm and reassuring. "The serum is beginning to take effect."

  Alexei nodded, his throat dry. He could feel it now—a pressure building behind his eyes, a tightening in his chest that left him struggling to breathe. The warmth became intense, invasive, as if his very being was being reshaped from the inside out.

  And then, it happened.

  The air is thick with the scent of burnt wood and something acrid,chemical. The sound of chisels hitting stone echoes through the chamber, accompanied by the occasional cry of pain.

  Alexei finds himself in a dimly lit cell, the walls lined with crude instruments of torture. The stone floor is slick with something dark and viscous, and the air is heavy with the stench of fear.

  In the center of the room, a figure is strapped to a metal table, their arms and legs bound tightly. The light of a flickering torch casts harsh shadows across their face, distorting it into a mask of suffering. Despite the distance, Alexie can see the tears streaming down their face, their breath coming in ragged gasps.

  Surrounding the figure are men in long, dark robes, their faces obscured by hoods. One of them lifts a syringe filled with a shimmering liquid, the needle glinting in the flickering torchlight.

  "This will hurt," a voice growls, deep and menacing. "But it will make you strong. Do not resist."

  The syringe plunges into the patient's arm, and with a sudden, ear-piercing scream, the room is engulfed in a blinding light. The patient's body spasms violently, their cries reverberating through the chamber as shadows twist and warp around them.

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  The vision fades as quickly as it began, leaving Alexei gasping for air, drenched in cold sweat.

  Alexei's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his bearings. The serum's effects had dwindled, leaving him with a profound sense of unease and an unsettling clarity.

  "That was..." he began, his voice shaky, "that was real."

  Dr. Voss's expression remained neutral, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—regret, or perhaps something more insidious. "It was a memory," she said flatly. "One of many that the serum helps to uncover."

  Alexei's mind reeled. "A memory? Of who? That patient... that was real. It was—"

  "Blackthorn has a long history," Dr. Voss interrupted, her tone carefully measured. "Some of it darker than others. But focusing on the past won't bring you any closer to understanding yourself."

  Understanding himself. Alexei's gaze drifted to the walls of the room, now seeming to close in around him. The serum had given him a glimpse into the asylum's past, and the truth was far more unsettling than he could have ever imagined.

  He thought of the symbols he had found—ancient runes etched into the walls, the cryptic files tucked away in hidden alcoves. The Order of the Veil, shrouded in secrecy, had clearly experimented on patients for decades, using them as guinea pigs in their quest to unlock the boundaries between worlds.

  And now, it seemed, they had chosen him.

  As the day wore on, Alexei's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of his newfound knowledge. The serum was no ordinary treatment; it was a tool, a key to unlocking both the past and the unknown. And Blackthorn Asylum was no longer just a place of confinement—it was a gateway, a bridge between worlds that had long been separated.

  The connection between the symbols, the visions, and the Order of the Veil became clearer with each passing moment. The serum wasn't just about enhancing cognitive function; it was about preparing him for something far more dangerous. Something that the Order had been waiting for.

  As night fell, Alexei found himself back in his room, the weight of his discoveries pressing down on him. The walls seemed to pulse with a faint, otherworldly energy, and the distant cries of the patients echoed through the corridors, haunting and insistent.

  He knew, deep down, that the serum had awoken something within him—a latent ability, a link to a past he had never known. And with that link came a responsibility, a duty to uncover the truth before it was too late.

  But the truth was elusive, hidden behind the veils of time and shadow. And Blackthorn Asylum was determined to keep it that way.