Watching the scene, intangible to human eyes, in another dimensional plane, stood an alien from the Planet Uuo. One head, resembling that of a pale human man, rested on a black cloak draping over a pair of shoulders and the alien's entire body, a crown of antennae around its scalp. A second head protruded from the center of the body, resembling the first, through an incision in the garb.
"…Do you not find this intriguing?" the first head spoke.
The second head puzzled. "In what manner?"
The first head frowned. "Is it not obvious? The way these creatures attempt to achieve some higher purpose other than being what they are–– specimens. Intriguing specimens, undoubtedly of higher intelligence than the other lifeforms on this planet, but specimens, nonetheless. Much lower than what we are".
It nodded to the hazmat suits that were just entering the door. "And just look at them in those disguises. Trying to invoke fear to get what they want. Such distasteful means. Such futileness".
The men in hazmat suits were about to begin their persuasion. "Well," the first head began, "it is time for us to head ba––"
"Wait!" interrupted the second head, surprising the first. "Was not our objective to bestow the man Luther Dingle with the enhancement?"
"Our objective is to find a specimen to bestow the ability to", the first replied, irritated. "Luther Dingle has been a choice subject by many of our brethren's experimentation, but he will perish soon due to these aggressive tactics. He is no longer of use to us nor to any inhabitants of other planets".
His irritated expression hardened as he stared at the disguised men. "Besides this matter, we will not amuse these creatures by supplementing them with what they desire".
The crown of antennae on his head began to whir, a light blue aura surrounding it, engulfing the alien in a shiny spectacle.
"We must take our leave".
"But…" the second head spoke, interrupting the aura. He gazed over at the inhumane sight. Zaps and fizzes sang through the sterilized air along with blue sparks and the agonized screams that poured out through Dingle's aching body. "… he needs help––".
"––Are you implying sympathetic feelings for this human?!" the first fumed. "There will no longer be any mention of Luther Dingle. We will take our leave. NOW".
"NO!" the second interjected. His own antennae began to undulate as he conjured up a simple rectangular device that floated in mid-air.
"What are you––?! Relinquish control of––!" the first shouted. He strained to gain power over the device with his own telekinetic ability, but the second was just as vehement.
Their battle of minds violently shook the remote look-alike. A white fiery sphere engulfed the device and grew in size with every passing moment of their struggle.
"I will–– REPORT you for your–– INSUBORDINATION!" the first stormed between heavy breaths, his face contorted and red with exhaustion.
"Do–– what you WANT!" the second heaved. "But I CANNOT–– sit back–– and let another individual SUFFER!"
An earsplitting shriek cut through the plane and the sphere exploded with a fiery blast, slamming the visitor into the wall and knocking him unconscious. The device lied on the ground as a pile of ashes.
But not before sending a beam of energy.
Towards Luther Dingle.
[…]
Dingle gulped in as much air as he could between each jab and shock to his worn body, but there was no relief as even breathing inflicted pain with each stroke. Electricity coursed through his bones, causing him to involuntarily writhe, his restraints digging further into his wrists and ankles.
He screamed out in pain. He screamed out in rebellion. But his screams quickly dwindled as numbness ebbed at his chest and the darkness threatened to cover his eyes.
"Please…" Dingle pleaded weakly. "… No more…"
"Mr. Dingle," the voice calmly stated," this is of your own volition. Activate your power and our persuasion will end".
"Ugh… I told you… I c––!" Dingle stopped mid-sentence.
He suddenly felt lighter… as if a wave of euphoria had washed over him. A morsel of empowerment rose within his being. His lips curved up slightly. I know this feeling…
The shocks of the jabs melted away. It was not because the numbness had finally won over his body. He still had all of his senses. It was as if…they were not really there. He could see those scepters utilized as tools of his captor's persuasion. But he couldn't feel them.
Those creatures in hazmat suits and even the room seemed to go out of focus, like the static on a television set. The voice echoed and wavered, then grew distant until it was a whisper.
Then time slowed down to a syrupy crawl.
[…]
Monitors beeped and whirred. The green glow of those machines the only light source illuminating the shadows of men. Dozens of eyes examined Dingle up on their perch behind that mirror. Watching the persuasion unfold.
Until Dingle disappeared.
The overseer, the one to whom the voice belonged, grinned.
"Ah! Invisibility. How extraordinary" he mused. "A definite advantage to our society". He bent over a large console near the mirror and spoke into a microphone.
"That's enough for now. Our associate Dingle is ready. The extraction process will start––"
"S-sir" one man hesitantly interrupted.
The overseer paused, then turned his head towards the offender. "What. Is it!?" he said through bared teeth.
The man looked to the others. They nodded to him. "D-Dingle," the subordinate stammered. "H-he… disappeared…"
The overseer stared at his inferior in disbelief. "…I can see that, but he's still here! He can't get out of those restraints and this room is sealed tight. We thought of every possible power he could display. They are reinfor––!"
The inferior shook his head. "But I'm telling you! ... Sir… Dingle is gone".
"You imbecile! Just check the heat scanners!"
"But that's just it! This scanner could track Luther Dingle even if he is invisible because of the heat his body emits, but there's no trace of him at all! It's as if h-he's not even in this… dimension! He just vanished. Look!" He turned a monitor in front of him to face his superior.
The overseer grabbed the monitor and studied it hard, a trickle of sweat stinging his eyes. Large blobs of red and orange against a background of blue. There should have been seven heat signatures. Six of his men surrounding one Mr. Dingle.
But the color of the center, where Dingle should have been, matched the background.
He threw down the monitor with a crash and seized the microphone. "WE HAVE A CODE 4RR3. SPREAD OUT. FIND DINGLE AND BRING HIM BACK. ALIVE!"