Elias Mercer woke up in a white room that hummed like a machine. The light was sterile—too clean, too constant. His breath fogged briefly before vanishing in the chilled air. The first thing he noticed was the suit. It clung to him like liquid glass—metallic blue, seamless, cold. It reflected the walls around him but not his face. He tried to move, but the material resisted—almost alive, almost thinking. A soft chime pulsed through the air. Then a voice, smooth and neutral: “Welcome back, Subject 47. Cognitive integrity scan complete. Please remain calm.” Back from what? His mind was a…