He didn't understand what he'd done to her, but he would by the time she was finished. Struggling against the bonds, seated in the same chair she had been hours before, he watched as she prepared the same experiment for him, the same 'transformation' she had just undergone. He regarded her silently, ever the scientist even through his terror, noting the subtle changes in her demeanor. In outward appearance she was the same as she had ever been, same warm smile, same bright intelligent eyes. She did not appear glassy or unfocused in her cognitive function, nor did it appear that when she moved some far off voice was telling her what to do. This was… not what he expected.
Most unnerving of all, it was clear she could read his thoughts.
"We are not what you thought."
This was not a question, but a plain-stated fact. One thing that had changed was how she moved. As she adjusted the settings on his enormous contraption in which he was bound, she moved about with preternatural grace. No wasted movement, no hesitation. There was what she had to do and no more, no less.
"Blame your movies, your speculative fiction for that. Collective is not something that is fought… but embraced," She turned to him and smiled openly, the only distance in her gaze was that of a patient teacher looking down on a slow student. "We will show you."
Finished with her ministrations, she turned to the lever, tightening his ankle straps and flowing back toward it all in one fluid movement. It should have been impossible, but there were no limits to her now. She seemed to exist, not just in her body, but also in the world. She was the machine, the chair that was his prison, even in his head, invading his very thoughts.
He spoke now, desperate to maintain some small measure of control. "It took me hours to calibrate this m-"
She interrupted him. Not out of impatience, but because everything he would and might and did say was already apparent to her.
"You are a novice fumbling with a trombone, finger painting with the finest oils. Did you think this machine was truly of your own inspiration? Did you not think it was us who whispered its machinations into your ear as you worked?"
She paused, and became even more remote. The chorus of voices that drove her grew louder.
"No, we suppose that you could not. It is beyond you to understand… but not for long." And then she flipped the switch. There was no noise, no obvious change, only a moment's static in the air.
"Mankind is a labyrinth," She explained, "We are the Minotaur. You are a vessel, we the travelers. This…" She caressed the machine as it once again hummed alive. "…is your birth canal. Come into the new world, eyes open."
She paused to assess his condition. Well, now their condition.
The scientist smiled.
"Yes, we do."