One of a Kind G/T

The vast lecture hall hummed with the low thrum of air conditioning and the murmur of student voices. Lorian Thorne, a towering Vareshian, ducked through the narrow doorway, his shoulders brushing the frame. He moved quickly to his usual spot at the back, where the ceiling arches seemed to give him a little more room to breathe. Even so, the desk felt comically small beneath his considerable frame.

Three rows ahead, Ava Solwin sat with her back to him, her dark hair a loose knot, a single strand curling against the nape of her neck. Lorian's gaze lingered, his usual internal monologue about the intricacies of Vareshian psychology temporarily derailed. He shifted, the dull scrape of wood against the floor sounding louder than it should, but she didn't turn. She never noticed him.

His heart quickened when the professor announced the term’s new, "hands-on" methodology. Two assistants wheeled in covered carts, stopping at each desk. A hush fell over the room as students uncovered their assignments. Lorian's breath hitched as he slowly pulled back the cloth from his own cage.

Inside, huddled in the corner, was a human. Small, maybe six inches tall, with messy brown hair and eyes wide with fear. It was a boy, young and scrawny, clutching the bars, naked. Lorian’s stomach clenched. He’d seen humans before, but never like this—never alive, never squirming under his gaze.