The boy said nothing as the orderlies walked past his cell, one of them twirling his ring of keys happily as the other spat uppity words that the boy didn't understand. He was seething, roiling, eager for blood... But a thick wall of graphene separated their throats from his hands.
"Patience, patience, patience," the boy muttered. The words did not come out right, and the orderlies burst into laughter.
"What's with that one?" the key-twirler asked, slapping his knee.
"The fuck do I care?" replied the other, who was clearly the more intelligent individual.
The boy only glared and growled, counting the seconds until the graphene would break.
In another wing of the lab, a tank bubbled.