"What is your directive?" the Voice asked, this time through the room's speakers, crisp and real.
Elara stood up. Her back was straight, her eyes clear and vacant. The vibration in her skull had stopped. mind control
"I won't," she whispered. Her hand, trembling, reached for the glass. "What is your directive
"You're... just a machine," she choked out, fighting to keep her elbow locked. "A signal... from the tower." this time through the room's speakers
The rim of the glass touched her lower lip. The hum became a roar, a tidal wave of static that drowned out the last of her resistance. She didn't feel the liquid slide down her throat; she only felt the sudden, terrifying absence of herself. The glass hit the carpet with a soft thud.
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