The Music Box

Kaerno sighed heavily, sitting against the wall. Across the containment chamber from her, a wooden table held up a delicate metal music box, made of what appeared to be tarnished silver with...maybe bronze or brass accents, she wasn't quite sure. It played its slightly sad melody as a porcelain ballerina spun around on top of it. The manager had sent her to this containment chamber to research the effects of the new tool abnormality, but Kaerno was almost instinctively afraid of the tools. After what she'd seen in her nightmare that night...None of them felt safe, and it felt like each and every one of them had the potential to kill someone, maybe even multiple people. Somehow, they felt more dangerous than the standard abnormalities, perhaps because they couldn't just be suppressed to prevent their ill effects. They just happened, depending on the care of the manager and agent alike, or sometimes even just blind luck. Something felt different about this one, though. As it softly played away, something about its music...relaxed her. She felt her stress melting away, and she thought, maybe this one's actually safe.

Time went on as she sat calmly in the containment chamber, and she wondered how long it would take to gather the information on the properties of this abnormality. Tools don't generate energy- there's no automated tone to let an agent know they've done all they need to. She would simply be given the okay to exit the chamber when the manager said so. Thinking about this, she suddenly felt worried again. What would happen if she was left in here for too long? Would it kill her, drive her mad? But she noticed the music again, sighed, and relaxed once more.

Her calmness would last only briefly, however, as she looked back up at the abnormality and suddenly, abruptly realized that something felt wrong. ...No, everything felt wrong all of a sudden. Her depth perception didn't seem to be working; rows of light and dark filled and muddied her vision, like what she saw when she looked at a screen for too long, but wavering and more intense. She couldn't tell how far away the music box was, with all of her senses seeming to come in and out of focus. She could barely even process the music anymore, losing track of its rhythm and hearing it more like a random assortment of tones. What was going on? Was she falling ill? A prickling sensation washed over the back of her head, running down to her shoulders. She wondered if this was the abnormality's fault, as her focus failed more and more...and, suddenly, she was struck with a piercing feeling of fear and panic, like an arrow in the heart.

I need to get out of here. Right now.

She scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over herself, disoriented and frantic. Moving at all made it feel like the room was spinning, and the only thing she could seem to focus on was her own racing heart, nearly ready to leap out of her chest. Stumbling to the door, she pushed it open with everything she had, before falling into the hallway. It was at this point that she decided that trying to move would probably just get her hurt, and she curled up by the wall, trying her best to sit up. She was definitely having a panic attack, that was for sure, but it definitely didn't explain how dizzy she felt and how unreal everything around her seemed. She still couldn't seem to get a grip on the distance of things or even the proportions of the room. Looking around at all was starting to give her a headache...she buried her head in her knees and curled into a ball. Soon she was crying; she could hardly control her breathing anymore.

It was at that moment that she heard a door open, and she debated on whether or not she'd lift up her head judging by how much the light hurt right now, until she heard a voice.

"Kaerno! I'm here to help, what's going on?"

It was Piper. She'd recognize that meek English accent anywhere. Looking up a little from her curled-up posture, she locked eyes with him and gave him a look of utter desperation. He knelt down next to her and carefully placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to help calm her down. He asked if she was okay and what had happened, but she could hardly even talk, she was breathing so fast and crying so much.

"Kaerno, can you try to steady your breathing for me? I'm here to help you calm down, alright?"
She tried, heaving an intense sigh, but she couldn't seem to slow it down. Piper saw the effort, at least, and gave her a smile. He was about to sit down next to her and continue trying to ease her mind the "traditional" way when he heard the manager pipe up over his radio. "We aren't going to get anything done in any reasonable length of time doing things like this," they chided. "You have a white-damage weapon, remember? That can rapidly restore mental stability. You won't actually hurt her."

That was right, his weapon dealt white...only affecting the mind, not the body. He stood up again, and carefully nudged Kaerno to move to the center of the hallway, which she did with great care.
"Okay, Kaerno, this might feel very weird, but I promise it'll help you feel better. It shouldn't actually hurt you. Hold still..."

Carefully, from behind him, he pulled a great scythe, white handle and black blade, decorated with graceful curves of metal holding music notes along them. Kaerno jumped, but didn't move as he carefully lifted it over his shoulder, before swinging it towards her. When the blade met her skin, she yelped at the sensation of cold metal entering her side. But there was no pain. And with that sensation, the room around her seemed to...stop spinning, a little. Like the world was stabilizing again. Piper pulled the scythe away, and Kaerno looked down to see if there was a wound in her side. To her surprise, there wasn't. This confused her greatly, but she decided it would be better not to question it. She looked up at him again, already prepared to swing a second time, and nodded.

Soon, Kaerno and Piper walked back into the main room of Central Command, Kaerno feeling much better and Piper feeling very pleased at the opportunity to help a fellow agent.
In her mind, Kaerno swore never to touch a tool abnormality again.