"Theoretically, you're right," Lex told her. The question of whether or not Dicen would wake up hostile was something that had haunted him ever since they'd parted ways. "But there have been plenty of medical theories composed by much smarter men than me that have been superseded." He squeezed Blue's hand absentmindedly as they climbed the steps.<br/><br/>Marcus walked a few stairs behind, just in case Lex were for some reason to fall backwards. He was still livid, to be sure, but that was still his brother. And the only one among them with a medical degree, making him unfortunately invaluable. "So, Schrodinger's death-machine, essentially." Lex scoffed in disdain, but he couldn't really argue. "So what do you think happened?"<br/><br/>"We didn't have enough leeway or foresight to be able to conduct any sort of telling experiments," Lex admitted, tracing his free hand along the wall of the stairwell. It was remarkably clean, for a building that had been in a suspended animation all its own for so long. The barracks smelled like dust, he knew from the state he'd left it in that the Venture Corp lab was in a state of disarray, but this building was so... different. "We called it the Song. The general consensus was that it was a high-pitched frequency that humans just couldn't hear. But the Realians did. A few of them tried to tell me that it was too loud, but I didn't know what<span style="font-style: italic">it</span>was, and I couldn't do anything to help them."<br/><br/>The last day that he'd been at the lab, the day that the Song played, Dicen had pleaded with him to make it stop. He was in excruciating pain all over, and there was nothing that his doctor could do for him. Except for the only thing that he knew to do: helping him go to sleep, possibly forever. It was better than being reduced to a rabid animal. When something went rabid, there was really only one thing that could be done, and Lex was determined that Dicen never make it to that point.