<div style="background-color:#000000; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold">***</span></div><br/><span style="color: #0040FF"><span style="font-style: italic"><div style="text-align: center;">Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, a veritable butterfly, enjoying itself to the full of its bent, and not knowing it was Chuang Chou.<br/>Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again.<br/>Now I do not know whether it was then I dreamt I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man. <br/>Between me and the butterfly there must be a difference?<br/>This is what is meant by the 'transformation of things.'</div></span></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold">***</span></div><br/>[...]<br/>During our dreams we do not know we are dreaming. We may even dream of interpreting a dream. Only on waking do we know it was a dream. Only after the great awakening will we realize that this is the great dream. And yet fools think they are awake, presuming to know that they are rulers or herdsmen. How dense! You and Confucius are both dreaming, and I who say you are a dream am also a dream. Such is my tale. It will probably be called preposterous, but after ten thousand generations there may be a great sage who will be able to explain it, a trivial interval equivalent to the passage from morning to night.²<br/><br/>The question why he dreamt of the butterfly and not a tiger, for example, can be attributed to the way the mind functions and the role it plays in dreaming: what's within is manifested without; our personality is a representation of our inner-self. Chuang Chou was the sort who enjoyed living in total freedom. The butterfly he dreamt of was. therefore, him, or what he wished to be. <br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><div style="text-align: center;">***</div></span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">________________________________________________</div><br/><br/><br/>Lan Feng closed the book on chinese philosophy and frowned slightly, furrowing his brows, as he glanced at the patient file in front of him.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">~So, this little one dreams of being a tiger, huh?~ </span>he chuckled slightly, as he picked up the documents again.<br/><div style="background-color:#000000; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;">ID-Number: 29677203<br/>Gender: F<br/>Age: 26<br/>Name: Harriet Whisper<br/>Body state: Malnutrition, no Illnesses, Animal DNA Mutation occuring <br/>Mind state: very unstable, feebleminded, danger of damage</div>Looking at the picture, her features seemed listless and her eyes seemed to hint at a weak willed person. Studying the picture a little more, she was not ugly, but very rough at the edges, hinting at a life of poverty.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">~A stray cat. Very much so.~ </span><br/>A small sneer formed on his lips, but vanished as he turned pensive. He had seen her around, probably.  Not many mutated DNA Subjects survived the treatment. And now it was her turn to mentally destabilize, like the rest of them. A failure?<br/>The research showed a little promise though. Compared to other mutated DNA patients, she did not turn overly rabid or hostile. Her brain waves had shown improvements, and the killer instincts were suppressed while awake.<br/>Nodding, he looked over the test results again. It was indeed an improvement in the results. But there seemed to be a problem in mental health. Or was that the Instincts?<br/>A knock on the door, and two research assistants – or more like the wards of the mental patient area led the woman inside. Lan Feng nodded to them and they retreated, after placing her on the chair.<br/>She was not restrained, what was a positive sign.<br/>The researcher hoped that there would be no need to restrain her during the talk.<br/>She obviously would see him for the first time today, but he felt a slightly familiar atmosphere, for he had been studying her documents since a long time, in preparation for treatment, when she turned rabid, like other genetically mixed or ‘improved’ subjects.<br/><br/><span style="color: #40BFFF">“Good afternoon, Harriet.”</span>his calm baritone voice was like a cool wave on the ears.<span style="color: #40BFFF">“I will ask you the usual questions, as you may know from other treatments, but maybe there is something you would like to tell me first?” </span>he inquired, while analyzing the woman’s actions and movements carefully.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">~Even a tiger can pretend to be a sheep. Or a stray cat.~ </span>This timid personality might as well be a mask of disguise.<br/>There were patients, that jumped up trying to harm the researchers or themselves. His scar on his left temple was a remains of one incident, where a patient feigned his death in order to escape.<br/>Lan Feng had been the unlucky coroner. From that point on, he would not turn his back on even dead subjects, carefully immobilizing the bodies before doing his work.<br/><br/>________________<br/>² Modeled after the musings of "Zhuangzi", a chinese Philosopher. Quotation fromm<a class="postlink" href="https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Zhuangzi">https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Zhuangzi</a>m