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Giggling Climber
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Elaine shines the flashlight over to the hinges of the working blast door. It appears to be opened by a pair of very substantial hydraulic rams.
"Look, I'm sorry for asking so many questions, but I am completely lost here. Who the hell is this "director". What the hell is this place?"
>"You really don't stop asking questions, do you?"
>"There is a saying, something about curiosity and cats, perhaps this is something you have heard?
Artyom sighs, visibly slightly annoyed.
>"hmph. The project director? He controls this place. It was CIA, once. Now? Something else. Inconvenient, isolated, filed away. He sought, I believe, to alter the human mind. Memories, allegiances, instincts, perception, personality. Compliance. Control. I think, yes, he has succeeded, far beyond what I had though possible."
>Some time ago, myself and, perhaps forty others were brought here. Now? Fewer. Those that remain I think you may find less.. cooperative than I. It would seem, by genes, fate, or luck, I possess a very... resilient mind. I have seen better men broken completely. Unrecognizable. The drugs, electricity, the surgery, the technique, yes, make sense. But there is, I think, something else... perhaps, something I do not understand.
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