He exited his room, and was immediately greeted by the usual hearty 'good morning, smugface' by his colleagues, as he entered
the test chamber/office cafeteria. Being the sole cyborg in a research facility dedicated towards something so wasteful such as dimensional gateways
somehow earned him the ire of his co-workers. He could never really figure out why though. Sure, he had paid a shitload
for his body, but then again he was single, had no family and literally lived at his work. What was he supposed to do with
his outlandishly large paycheck?
Large spotlights in the celling pointed towards the big, black sphere in the middle of the circular
room. Roy made a passing comment about the man's mother, and proceeded to pour himself a cup of choffe (Coffe with added hoff. Cyborgs only).
He had no real needs for the extra nanites, he produced more than enough by himself, but somewhere along the road he had begun to appreciate the taste
of the horrid, brown, slow moving goo.
"Any change during the night?" He asked no one in particular. "Nah, nothing. It just sits there. No response from the probes,
no communication, no nothing" answered the man tending to one of the consoles aligned with the sphere.
Roy sighed and swallowed some of the brackish liquid in his cup, savouring the tender sensation of having his throat being
ripped apart from the inside. They had gone through with the final phase of a rather drawn out testing procedure a month
ago when one of the 'Dimensional aligners', big expensive pieces of machinery that no one really knew what they did,
suddenly coughed up a spark and exploded, leaving
behind a pile of smoking rubble and a big, black howering sphere. When they examined the sphere, they found that they could
throw objects into it, but they had no idea where they went or why.