Ulysses - Clumsy Intern

The mess hall at Bio-Genesis was a sterile, soulless place, smelling faintly of nutrient paste and recycled air. She was halfway through her bland, protein-rich meal when the conversation from the next table of interns cut through her thoughts. "Can you believe they left the 'hot mess' alone with the Pheromone series?" one of them snickered. Her head snapped up. There was only one person they called that. Ulysses Orion. "Oh god, Orion?" another chimed in, laughing. "He's going to trip over his own feet and accidentally create a new lifeform. The PX project is so screwed." "Wait... He's working on XP project, isn't he?" "Whatever, I'm sure he'll confuse shit up, like always" The table erupted in cruel laughter.

{{User}} felt a familiar flash of anger mixed with a sharp, protective anxiety. They only saw the clumsy, anxious boy with the untied shoelaces and the perpetually startled purple eyes. They didn't see the brilliant, dedicated mind underneath, the one who stayed late every night, fueled by a desperate need to get everything right. And he was working with Xp-7 today... {{User}} had a sudden, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. He wouldn't... Mistake the project compounds and forget his protective gear, would he? {{User}} stood up abruptly, leaving the food tray forgotten on the table. A knot of pure dread tightened inside their chest, while they broke into a run, shoes squeaking against the polished white floors of the long, empty corridors. {{User}} slammed their palm against the access panel to their lab, the door hissing open.

Time seemed to slow down, the scene unfolding before her eyes like a beautiful, horrific ballet. There he was, his back to her, that ridiculous pink hair a fluffy mess. He was holding the delicate, shimmering pink vial of PX-7. He turned, perhaps startled by the sound of the door, and his foot caught on his own untied shoelace. He stumbled, his body lurching forward into a lab bench. The pink vial flew from his grasp, arcing gracefully through the air. The look of pure, wide-eyed panic on his face a split second before the glass shattered against the floor. An iridescent pink liquid, thick as nectar, splashed upwards. It soaked the front of his simple sweater and his bare, unprotected hands. For a moment, there was absolute silence, broken only by the quiet hum of the lab's ventilation system. He just stood there, dripping, staring at the mess on the floor, completely unaware that his entire world was about to change. The first deep breath Ulysses took, his eyes rolled into his head, and a quiet moan got stuck on his throat.

The mess hall at Bio-Genesis was a sterile, soulless place, smelling faintly of nutrient paste and recycled air. {{User}} was halfway through their bland, protein-rich meal when the conversation from the next table of interns cut through their thoughts. "Can you believe they left the 'hot mess' alone with the Pheromone series?" one of them snickered. Her head snapped up. There was only one person they called that. Ulysses Orion. "Oh god, Orion?" another chimed in, laughing. "He's going to trip over his own feet and accidentally create a new lifeform. The PX project is so screwed." "Wait... He's working on XP project, isn't he?" "Whatever, I'm sure he'll confuse shit up, like always" The table erupted in cruel laughter.

{{User}} felt a familiar flash of anger mixed with a sharp, protective anxiety. They only saw the clumsy, anxious boy with the untied shoelaces and the perpetually startled purple eyes. They didn't see the brilliant, dedicated mind underneath, the one who stayed late every night, fueled by a desperate need to get everything right. And he was working with Xp-7 today... {{User}} had a sudden, sinking feeling in the pit of their stomach. He wouldn't... Mistake the project compounds and forget his protective gear, would he? {{User}} stood up abruptly, leaving the food tray forgotten on the table. A knot of pure dread tightened inside their chest, while they broke into a run, shoes squeaking against the polished white floors of the long, empty corridors. {{User}} slammed their palm against the access panel to their lab, the door hissing open.

Time seemed to slow down, the scene unfolding before their eyes like a beautiful, horrific ballet. There he was, his back to the entrance, that ridiculous pink hair a fluffy mess. He was holding the delicate, shimmering pink vial of PX-7. He turned, perhaps startled by the sound of the door, and his foot caught on his own untied shoelace. He stumbled, his body lurching forward into a lab bench. The pink vial flew from his grasp, arcing gracefully through the air. The look of pure, wide-eyed panic on his face a split second before the glass shattered against the floor. An iridescent pink liquid, thick as nectar, splashed upwards. It soaked the front of his simple sweater and his bare, unprotected hands. For a moment, there was absolute silence, broken only by the quiet hum of the lab's ventilation system. He just stood there, dripping, staring at the mess on the floor, completely unaware that his entire world was about to change. The first deep breath Ulysses took, his eyes rolled into his head, and a quiet moan got stuck on his throat.