Sophia stood as well as she could from the bed, grimacing as her muscles strained, tensing against her weakened frame...she walked down out of her room, into the quiet halls. White panels covered the walls, as always, but swirls of blue and red flowed across them, colors that reflected from the shadows...Sophia stopped at a room halfway down the hall, and walked inside, her surgical treatment ready to be applied...
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
