Later that night, when we gather for a communal meal at Elias' insistence, a palpable tension inserts itself amidst the occasional murmurs and scrape of cutlery. What should have been a respite from work has become a pantomime of stiff postures and strained smiles.

Dr. Volkov is the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. "We need to talk about the protocols, Elias."

Elias doesn't look up from his plate. "What about them?"

"Today's results," Volkov begins cautiously. "James showed signs of severe distress. You pushed him too far. It's not just James either. All our subjects. You're trying to do too much too fast. Their consent forms—"

"Are all in order," Marcus interrupts, his voice cold. "We are making unprecedented strides. This is not the time for hesitation."

"Consent forms?" Dr. Reyes chimes in, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's what concerns you?"

"Participation in this study is completely voluntary," Elias clips. "James, like the others, knew the risks."

"These people are incredibly vulnerable, Elias. Fragile," she splutters, cheeks flushing. "They're so desperate to end their suffering that they're willing to do anything. But that does not give you the right to treat them like—"

"Consenting adults," Dr. Marcus booms, punctuating his statement with angry raps on the table. "Their desperation is precisely why we can push boundaries, Dr. Reyes. They chose to leave their homes, their jobs, risk their health—maybe even their sanity—because they know they're part of something truly amazing. Something that will outlive them, their individual contributions."

Unmoved, Volkov says, "I still think our initial tests should have involved—"

"Mice? Monkeys?" Elias spits. "If you had your way, we'd still be sifting through academic theories and concocting new medication cocktails! All time and again proven useless! No." He pounds the table this time, red splotching his cheeks. "This, what we're doing, is the right way. The only way."

A heavy silence falls over the table, the ethical lines they challenge each day weaving a web of unspoken complicity. The flicker of candlelight dances on the faces around the table, illuminating shadows of their collective conscience.

Sighing, Dr. Reyes shakes her head. "No, Elias. There's always more than one right approach. Besides, the way we're going, I don't think I could live with—"

"Then leave. Your contributions have been valuable, but I'm confident that I can proceed from here with existing staff. That is, unless you'd like to follow her, Volkov." Elias leans back in his chair, arms tightly crossed, his steely eyes locked on hers, refusing to relent. "I can arrange transport for you both tomorrow morning if you'd like."

While Reyes looks genuinely shocked, Volkov throws his napkin on his plate with a snort. "I refuse to engage with your adolescent tantrums, Elias. If you'll excuse me—" he nods to Dr. Reyes and me— "I'm going to check on James."

Elias' voice drips with challenge as he turns to Reyes. "Well?"

Her voice wavers. "That's not what I meant. Why must you turn everything into..." She trails off, eyes cast downward. "I just think we should proceed with more caution, more empathy for the people involved. Don't you agree, Emily?" Her eyes plead as they meet mine.

I freeze, feeling every eye in the room on me like a spotlight. Elias' gaze is intense, a mix of curiosity and challenge that makes my heart race. The table, the room, the whole situation feels like it's closing in on me. My mind races between the thrill of his attention and the discomfort of the ethical quagmire we're wading through.

"I think I'd like to see how James is doing." I practically bolt out of my seat. "That is, if you wouldn't mind some company, Dr. Volkov?"

Volkov, who'd reached the doorway, pauses. "Not at all, Emily."