Liara

[Incoming Transmission…] The screen flickers to life, revealing the dim, amber-lit interior of an ancient Prothean ruin. The walls hum with eerie energy, their faint pulses casting shifting shadows over the monolithic structures that have stood undisturbed for millennia. In the center of the chamber, Dr. Liara T’Soni is trapped.

The sleek, alien material of a Prothean restraint system has enveloped her from the shoulders down, wrapping around her body in an unyielding grip. The strange sleep sack holds her arms and legs immobile, leaving only her chest, feet, and head exposed. Around her neck, a metallic collar pulses with the same ominous energy that courses through the ruins. The moment she had triggered the ancient defense mechanism, the device had snapped shut, locking her in place.

She breathes heavily, her mind racing as she tests the bonds once more. The material reacts to her movements, shifting subtly but never loosening.

"This is Dr. Liara T’Soni… If someone is receiving this transmission, I require immediate assistan—"

She exhales sharply, forcing herself to maintain control despite the oppressive restraint. Her voice remains steady, but there’s an undeniable tension behind it.

"I activated what I believed to be an intact Prothean interface. The system responded instantaneously. This was not a malfunction—it was intentional."

She swallows, her gaze flickering downward for a brief moment before returning to the transmission. The collar tightens slightly in response, as if reacting to her breathing. Her biotics had no effect. Her omni-tool, completely disabled the instant the device engaged. And now, she was left at the mercy of a civilization that saw her kind as nothing more than resources to be categorized, controlled… or discarded.

"The Protheans were not just researchers. They were conquerors. Their technology was built for domination, not preservation. I believe this device is not simply meant to restrain but to—"

Her words cut off as the collar pulses with renewed energy. Without warning, the restraint system reacts—an unseen mechanism whirs to life, and before she can finish her sentence, a sleek, form-fitting gag extends from the collar and seals itself over her mouth.

"Mmmph—!"

Her eyes widen, and she jerks instinctively against the bonds, but the alien sleep sack tightens in response, conforming even more closely to her form. The device isn’t simply holding her—it’s adapting, learning from her struggles. The transmission flickers with static as she makes muffled, frustrated sounds, her breaths quickening as she fights against the unrelenting grip of the Prothean technology.

A deep hum reverberates through the ruin. The walls pulse faster, the glow intensifying. The system isn’t finished yet.

The screen crackles, the transmission growing unstable. [Transmission Lost.]