Arthur gasped, ripping the headband off. He leaned over the workbench, expecting to find a pile of scrap or a puddle of molten silver.
A searing pain tore through his temples. He saw a flash of blinding white, a kaleidoscope of binary and bone. When the power finally surged back on, the lab was silent. The gel sphere had shattered, coating the workbench in a sticky, cooling film. [S1E11] Fabrication
But as he looked closer, his blood ran cold. On the inside of the lid, where his father’s initials should have been, were his own. And underneath them, a date: tomorrow. Arthur gasped, ripping the headband off