Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the lab seemed to dim for Ben. He sat frozen, unable to look away from the rival project, the mirror image of his own. His stomach churned. He felt as though the very ground beneath him had shifted.

He had always felt a sense of ownership over his ideas, a protective instinct. Now, someone had… stolen them? Or, worse, somehow independently generated them. He could scarcely breathe. The air felt thick, difficult to draw into his lungs.

He slammed his fist on the desk. This shouldn’t be happening. It wasn’t right. He felt this profound sense of… being misplaced. He stood and began to pace the room.