You go home early

You clock out early. No one questions it. You’ve got the perfect excuse. Recent accident, recovery, taking it easy. People nod, tell you to rest up, and go back to their work. If only it were that simple. The walk home feels longer than usual. Every step gives your mind more room to spiral. "CMD-1. Behavioral influence. Pheromones." You shove your hands into your pockets, brushing against the foil of the pills you took from storage. Still there. Still real. Still yours. Back home, the door shuts behind you with a quiet click. Silence. No lab noise. No city distractions. Just you… and your thoughts. You drop your bag, run a hand through your hair, and go to your room.

"…With great power comes-... whatever man," you mutter dryly, staring at nothing. You let out a short, humorless breath. Because this? This isn’t some comic book scenario. There’s no guidebook. No mentor. No clear line between right and wrong when the wrong already happened. You lean against the door, arms crossed. You felt it. That moment in the hospital. How easy it was. How fast everything shifted. And worse, how natural it started to feel once it happened. That thought lingers longer than you’d like. Dr. Carter. You close your eyes for a second, tension tightening in your chest. Imagining all the things you did with her and how good it felt. You exhale. You push yourself off the door and sit down on your bed. Your gaze drifts to your pocket again. It's not meant for public use. Definitely not meant for you. And yet here you are. In possession of something that can override another person’s will under the right conditions. You tap your fingers against your knee.

So what now? Throw them away? Report it? Keep them? The questions stack up fast, and none of the answers feel simple. Because no matter what you choose, you can’t forget what you already know. And you definitely can’t pretend this is harmless. The room stays quiet. But your mind doesn’t. And somewhere in the back of it… A thought lingers. Not loud. Not urgent. Just… present. What else can it do?