(Tw: partial eye loss)

Broken Perspective

Violet and Dash were strapped to chairs once again, the familiar tightness of the restraints biting into their skin. The scientist standing before them adjusted his gloves, his movements deliberate and clinical. On a tray beside him sat a series of vials filled with a faintly glowing liquid, the sight of which sent a chill down Violet's spine.

The scientist explained the procedure in his usual detached tone. "We're testing the effects of these compounds on ocular tissue. Each of you will receive a single dose in one eye. The outcomes will provide valuable data."

Dash's fists clenched against the armrests. "You're going to mess with our eyes now?"

The scientist ignores him as he approaches, holding a syringe filled with a clear, viscous liquid. Violet tensed as he leaned closer, forcing her eye open with gloved fingers.

"This won't take long," he said in a detached tone, as if discussing the weather.

Violet flinched as the liquid was injected into her left eye. A burning sensation exploded immediately, searing and relentless. She clenched her fists against the restraints, her breaths coming fast and shallow.

Her vision blurred, getting dark around the edges and she blinked rapidly, tears streaming down her face as the burning sensation refused to subside. She could barely hear her brother shouting her name over the roaring pain.

When the scientist moved to Dash, she forced her head up despite the agony. "Leave him alone!" she croaked, her voice ragged.

"Stay still," the scientist said, his tone devoid of emotion. "This will be over quickly."

Dash's breaths came fast and shallow. "Wait! No—stop! Don't—"

The guard tightened his grip, immobilizing him. Dash's heart thundered in his chest as the scientist tilted his head back further, holding the syringe above his right eye.

The syringe pierced his eye, and it was like fire.

The pain was immediate and overwhelming, burning through his eye and spreading across his face. Dash screamed, thrashing against the chair, but the restraints held firm.

"Vi!" he yelled, his voice raw. "Vi, it hurts! I can't—"

He gasped, his chest heaving, as the searing pain intensified. Then, as abruptly as it started, the world in his right eye went dark.

"No," he whispered, his panic spiking. "No, no, no—" He blinked rapidly, desperate to clear the blackness, but nothing changed. It wasn't foggy or blurred—it was nothing. Just an endless void.

"I can't see!" he cried, his voice rising in terror. "I can't see anything!"

Suddenly… a memory hit Dash like a sudden gust of wind.

He was on one of their family missions. He'd been overconfident—too fast, too reckless—and hadn't seen the flying debris until it was too late. A piece of rubble had hit his face, leaving him with a swollen, black eye.

He'd brushed it off at first, grinning through the pain. "Just a scratch," he'd said, waving away his mom's concerned look as they returned home. But the next morning, things weren't so funny.

Dash remembered sprinting down the stairs for breakfast, his usual blur of speed turning into a stumble as he misjudged a step, nearly sending him sprawling. He caught himself at the last second, panting as his parents looked up from the table.

"Dash!" Helen called, rushing over. "Are you okay?"

He laughed it off, scratching the back of his head. "I'm fine don't know what happened, maybe I am still half asleep."

Bob stepped in, his tone serious. "It's your depth perception. A black eye can mess with it, and that's dangerous, especially for someone like you."

"What do you mean?" Dash asked, frowning.

"The reason we have two eyes is to be able to tell how far are the objects we are seeing, so it's going to be harder to gauge distances for a while. Your eyesight is crucial for your speed, Dash. You need to be careful until you're back to normal."

"Does that mean I'll have to slow down?" Dash asked, the worry creeping into his voice.

His mom chimed in from across the table, looking at him with concern. "A little bit, just until your eye heals, it also means you have to be extra cautious. Your powers work because of the precision of your reflexes. If your vision isn't up to par, you won't be able to perform as you normally do."

"But you'll be okay," Bob said, ruffling his hair. "It's just a minor setback. You're still the fastest kid I know."

Dash swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of his parents' words. He nodded, determined to get better, but the seed of doubt had been planted deep in his mind.

The memory faded. The weight of what he had lost settled heavier on his chest, the cruel irony of it twisting the knife deeper.

The scientist jotted down notes on his clipboard, indifferent to their suffering. "Interesting. Partial loss for one, total loss for the other. Document the results and prepare them for the next phase."

Back in the cell, Violet rushed to Dash the moment the guards left, her own throbbing pain forgotten. His hands trembling as they hovered near his face, afraid to touch his injured eye.

"Dash, let me see," Violet said urgently, kneeling in front of him.

He hesitated but nodded, lowering his hand. Violet gently tilted his face toward her, her heart sinking as she examined his eye. The sclera was bloodshot, the iris clouded and milky, unresponsive to light.

She tried to hide her reaction, but she couldn't stop the slight flinch that flickered across her face.

Dash noticed. He gave a grimace. "That bad, huh?"

Dash sank to the floor, leaning back against the wall with a shaky laugh. "Well," he said, his voice cracking as he tried to sound nonchalant, "at least I've got the whole pirate look going for me now, right? Just need a patch, and maybe a parrot."

"Dash…" She bit her lip at his attempt of humor, and before she could say something else, his bravado crumbled.

"I can't see, Vi," he choked out, his voice breaking. "It's gone. I can't see."

His words broke off as his breathing quickened, panic taking hold. "I'm here" Violet didn't know what else to say. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, but she didn't know if it would be. " I'm here Dash" She repeated as she put a hand on his shoulder.

He barely musters the strength to look up to her as he asks. "And you? Your eye—how bad is it?"

Violet hesitated before answering, knowing it was pointless to lie. "I can still see… a little. It's blurry, but it's not as bad as…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Dash looked away, his expression unreadable, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fists clenched. "Why did they do this?" he muttered, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and despair.

Violet crawled closer, ignoring her own pain, and wrapped her arms around him. For a moment, he stiffened, but then he let out a shaky breath and leaned into her embrace.

"It's not fair," he said, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "They keep breaking us, Vi. Piece by piece. What's going to be left of us?"

She held him tightly, rocking him gently as he sobbed. She could feel his fear, his helplessness, and it broke her heart. All she could do was hold him, anchoring him against the storm of despair threatening to swallow him whole.