Time drawled on like ages.
Seconds crawled. Minutes ticked on.
Hours were brutal.
They only needed four days.
'The Quaternary Interval' they had dubbed it, and during this interval, the laboratory was plunged into the deepest of silence, strictness and sequestration.
Only a handful of scientists, hand-picked by the professor himself, was allowed to tend to the project during this crucial time. And to those chosen, their bodies were stiff the entire duration, carefully thinking of each step and action as they went about the lab.
It was as if the room was made of thin ice; one mistake could be fatal for the entire project.
On the third day however, professor Eugene had received a surprise visit by Starfleet Command, a group of high ranking intellects flown all the way from headquarters to examine the very project they had funded.
But of course, this gave them no excuse to be treated differently as they stepped foot into the laboratory. The admiral professor does have a strong reputation of maintaining rigid discipline.
Shoes were stripped, items were stored away, and jackets and accessories left behind, reducing any sort of calamity that might occur. They walked simply cladded in shirts, trousers, and socks.
The assembly stared in awe once their eyes feasted in the sights of one hundred men and women frozen in their slumber. A layer of the pods could be slid open, revealing a glass barrier between the subject and the observer. Ghostly faces surrounded them and they felt the stares as if pierce eyes could see through eyelids.
It was an eerie sight.
They were in exaltation.
The professor received high commendation right then and there, acquiring recognition from his superiors and to those at Starfleet.
But the weight of perfect expectations were also dropped onto his shoulders.
By the fourth day, everyone was back into their frenzied schedule. It was the moment of truth. Will they come out defectless as he promised them they would be? Or will it result to utter failure?
Eugene bit his lip.
'No,' he thought, erasing all doubt. 'They will be SUPERB.'
Tensions in the air rose as the pods were being ready to open, the main source of the Eugenics Project beeped rhythmically, taking its time to shut down. The scientists stood watch in front of their own assigned subject, the signs of nervousness and excitement evident in their eyes.
Then, the doors opened with a hiss.
The needles embedded into their arms slid out slowly, leaving small, punctured holes on both wrists. But what they saw next, baffled them.
Skin began to crawl around the wound, encircling it with flesh until it was filled in and healed instantly. This miraculous occurrence left the room speechless and an air of amazement fogged the laboratory. They didn't expect to see results so soon.
Aiding hands quickly assisted the test subjects out of their chambers, laying them down carefully onto thin cots on the floor. Heart rates and blood pressures were measured, assuring that they were alive and well. The anesthesia will start to dissipate soon.
Another interval, but fortunately this time it didn't take long.
Twitches of the hands and feet indicated the break of unconsciousness. A slight jerk of a muscle.
Then, the frantic fluttering of eyelids.
All of a sudden, violent coughs racked the room. They gasped for air, greedily sucking in the warmness into their lungs for they were limited to stale, icy oxygen inside their pods. Every one of them got up in frighteningly synchronization.
The admiral professor watched his creations with wide eyes,
and smiled.
Sherlock woke to the tingling sensation manifesting on his arms. His mind was slowly unfurling and he struggled to lift his heavy eyelids. Once he managed to open them a crack, they clamped shut immediately, shielding away from the awfully bright whiteness around him. He could feel himself being lifted by many strong hands and once he was out of his cramped, frozen space, the sudden temperature change pressed on his chest, warm oxygen forced its way onto his lungs and he trembled violently.
But this wasn't what frightened him.
As he regained his conscious state, he felt his mind literally being flooded, a physical weight pounded on his cranium. He shot up instantly, gritting his teeth and clasping the curls on his head, ready to rip them out in pure frustration.
'Make it STOP.' he screamed in his head. Sherlock has never reacted this way towards a flood of information coursing through his brain; he at least could keep it to himself, but something in him changed, making him unable to control his own actions.
And it only got worse once the tears started falling.
He felt distant. Although he could feel the swarming hands of people pinning him down and restraining him, he couldn't truly perceive it. He was a ghost outside his body.
'Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. STOP.'
Sherlock Holmes was crumbling.
But,
"Sherlock,"
It only took a whisper,
"Sherlock!"
And a touch,
"Sherlock!"
To bring the great detective back into reality.
Crazed, clouded eyes snapped to connect with warm blue ones crinkled with worry yet mixed with the strongest of sternness, telling the detective to get a hold of himself and stop this madness. And he did just that.
Cold relief washed over him and he finally took control of his body, finally feeling the embarrassing tears drying on his cheeks and the warmth of a friend's strong grip on his shoulders. He looked around.
He was back in the bleach white laboratory, the familiar sounds of buzzing and footsteps filling his neglected ears and the sight of many different people and actions washing away the blackness that rimmed his vision.
He shook his head once more.
"John?" Sherlock breathed, looking up to an equally tired man's face.
"You okay?" The familiarity of Watson's words produced an uncontrolled smile on the detective's face.
"Ugh I'll definitely feel that in the morning," John mumbled as he and Sherlock were helped up. "Though oddly better than sleeping on Sarah's couch."
John Watson looked at his surroundings, shaking off the fatigue and trying hard to stay alert. It was a strange experience, waking up after four days of slumber, but he couldn't complain. After many late-night adventures as Hatman and Robin, he deserved the rest.
"Mr. Harrison! Mr. Khan!" A voice boomed and John turned to face the expected form of the admiral professor.
"Professor," he cleared his voice.
"Well, how do you feel?" Eugene scanned the doctor's entire profile, squeezing muscle and examining pupils for any changes. John, of course, felt shifty.
"Uh...well, you tell me professor."
Eugene looked, then brought his hand underneath his chin. "It seems as though there isn't any physical change from the looks of it,"
His eyes then turned to the disgruntled detective.
"How about you, Mr. Khan? Anything at all?"
"A moment ago I felt as if the universe stuffed itself into my head," he glared. But instead of feeling intimidated, the professor simply clapped his hands with achievement and went on inspecting the other subjects.
Sherlock felt fire burning through his veins and began to ball his hands tightly into fists. Shocked and utterly confused about his actions, he found himself having to focus more on his self control.
He gazed at his open palms.
'What is happening?'
Once everyone was controlled, they were immediately assigned back to their scientists to begin the course of another test. This time, it was a lot more interesting.
Not only were they analyzed through wires and scans, but they were also ask to demonstrate their new bodies. It was then that they truly saw the results of the Eugenics Project.
Heavy weights were brought in, the numbers starting in tons and subjects were asked to lift each weight with only a hand. At first John was doubtful, he knew he was strong but not that strong, but he surprised himself and the others when he was able to lift five tons with a single breath. He choked back his shock.
Intellects like Sherlock were stationed in a different field of testing, calculating problems as quick as a blink, assembling gadgets they've never seen before without instructions, and going in for multiple brain scans. Neurologists drooled at the aftermath.
"Participants! How wonderful is this outcome!" the admiral's voice boomed. "I cannot describe the overwhelming joy of this birth of long sought-after research!" His eyes crinkled in delight, but with a single focused glance, one can definitely spot the hint of madness in them. Admiral Professor Eugene craved accomplishment and this single moment for him was like a dose of adrenaline for John or a complex case for Sherlock.
"What then?" boomed back Lestrade, still hanging on to great weights with ease.
"As you can clearly see, your body has been enhanced tenfold. You all are truly superhuman. But what you are experiencing right now are merely baby steps; this isn't your full potential." The admiral faced the crowd.
"In a few days we are all heading out to headquarters where you will be attending Starfleet Academy in a custom course specifically designed for the Eugenics Project. You will undergo training and education that will reveal the greatness hidden in all of you, and we will prep you to becoming the first and the very best genetically engineered Starfleet crew this world will ever have. Besides, the experiment hasn't produced physical changes in any of you, correct? We will make sure to refine that and give you an image fit for your power."
Everyone buzzed with energy.
John lifted his arms up, feeling the worn muscle of his old army days still lingering underneath his skin. His eyes landed on Sherlock's lean but stick-like figure, chuckling as he imagined adding bulk to that body of his.
Lestrade stood next to the smiling doctor, feeling just as excited as he is.
"So, Tobias, what do you say? Are you up for it?"
The dear inspector smiled a smile only reserved for his closest friends and bumped John lightly on the shoulder, but still unknowing of his strength, almost caused the blogger detective to fall.
They both laughed warmly.
"Ah well, I could use another exciting holiday."
A/N Whew well this one was procrastination galore! It's really hard to focus when you get to the 'filler-type' parts of the story because you so badly want to skip to the exciting part(and trust me, this story's rising action really will be a doozy,) plus the cliffhangers-oh the fun I have in store for all of you! X) Can you guys already picture the admiral's smile? Yeah he's a happy one. Yes and I love John and Lestrade bro moments, shoot me. Reviews are helpful and welcomed! :3