The hours passed. The first man finished the papers and looked at the others. Neither returned the attention. Both were now staring at the door, consciously or otherwise it wasn't clear.

The first man slowly turned his head towards the door.

At that moment, the hinged piece of wood opened. A brown-haired, gray-eyed young man stepped in, dressed in a white lab suit and carrying a clipboard. He glanced at the three at the desks in front of him. And he smiled, a condescending smile.

“My name is Cliff. I'm here to tell you, your time is up.”

He sauntered over to the first desk, glanced at the stack of finished papers, and nodded approvingly. “Quite interesting, Clayton.” He scribbled something down on the clipboard, then stepped towards the second man, who was now watching him with narrow black eyes.

“Brynt,” Cliff picked up a few unfinished papers from the flat surface, glanced them over with a critical eye, and dropped them on the floor. “Lack the heart?”

Brynt flashed a quick smile, a look that was far from friendly and a look that was extremely cautious.

Cliff raised an eyebrow, wrote something on the clipboard, then proceeded to the last desk.

“Greyson.”

The man was still staring at the door, his eyes completely blank. The word elicited no response.

“You of anyone in this building should have the capacity to do this.” Cliff tapped the stack of papers on Greyson's desk. “You're the steel-hearted stoic.”

There was still no answer. Cliff glanced at Greyson cautiously, then proceeded to make a single mark on the paper. He turned to Clayton.

“Mr. Rogers. Would you come with me? Bring your papers. We'll have someone else see to you two,” he nodded at Brynt and Greyson as Clayton got to his feet. “They should be here within the next ten minutes.”

Both were silent as Cliff and Clayton exited the room. After the door clicked shut, there were a few moments of silence. Then, without breaking his stare towards where the two had disappeared, Brynt spoke.

“What exactly are they doing?” he asked levelly, his tone neither friendly nor unfriendly.

“It's a psychological experiment,” Greyson returned in the same voice. “They wanted to see how a normal person would react to being cut off from all human contact. Which explains the months in that sterile white cell.”

“It also makes one wonder why they chose us to take part.”

“Indeed it does. At least they countered that with choosing relatively average citizens for the rest of the experiment.”

“What's the size of the endeavor?”

“Around a hundred and fifty participants.”

“What about us are they trying to determine with this?” Brynt waved a careless hand towards his papers.

“Whether we would still be fit to be released into civilization.”

“You're using terms that make it seem that we're some sort of lab rat. Why?”

“Because here they consider us really no different than lab rats.”

The room was silent for a few minutes, then the door was pushed open.

Another young man. Only this one was dressed in a formal suit.

“Brynt,” he said in a clipped tone. “Gather your papers and follow me. Someone will be in for Mr. Marrick shortly.”

Brynt settled back into his seat with a position similar to Greyson's, arms folded, eyes narrow.

“Mr. Delta, you need to follow me.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Ryan Caston, Bry -”

“Mr. Caston. Define 'need'.”

“You are required to. You agreed to it at the beginning of the experiment.”

Brynt raised an eyebrow and pushed himself to his feet. “Very well.”

“Your papers.”

“You can get them yourself. I'm not touching them.”

“We'll send someone in to get them.” Ryan gestured towards the door. “Mr. Delta. Please follow me.”