Dr. Kekyll & The Wonders of the RAC

"Either pay someone **** or do it yourself," Dr. Jon Kekyll grumbled, fiddling with the mess of instruments strewn about. He was perched in the center of his lab, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, harsh fluorescent lights glaring down on the sterile tile and chrome around him. In one hand, he held the Reality Alteration Controller, or RAC for short, a device that looked part high-end remote, part weaponized gadget from a spy film.

“I’ve finally stabilized the field fluctuations. It should be safe… in theory,” he muttered, half to himself, half to the indifferent turn of the voice recorder beside him. “Not exactly thrilled about human testing, but the insurance people won’t validate what they can’t measure. So who else is left?”

With a resigned breath and a glint of reckless resolve, he abandoned second thoughts. His thumb hovered a second longer than he liked before pressing the activation button.

"Well... let’s find out."

A jolt tore through his brain like enraged lightning. He let out a strangled groan as his muscles spasmed, the RAC slipping from his grasp and hitting the floor with a dull thud. Still in his seat, he clutched his head while the lab monitors lit up with data.

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