A dimly lit basement serves as the setting. The camera pans, capturing the eerie symmetry of rusting machinery – gears, levers, rides – akin to a neglected bodyworks workshop. A peculiar contraption lies at the center under a solitary spotlight, optimum for color contrast with the gloominess around. Its design hints at an amalgamation of foreign parts, echoing the concept of a homograft.
On a worn-out table, a cluster of diagrams and papers are arranged, filled with arcane symbols, DNA strands, and unusual words – one of them, “Isoleucine” shimmering in the low light. Flakes of dried ink on these papers are in focus, enhancing the viewer’s sense of their age and purpose.
The camera’s perspective gives a bird’s eye view of the room first before transitioning to ground level, as if we were entering the mind of a curious visitor stealthily exploring the room. The movement of shadows indicates the flame from a lone candle on the table flickering, subtly suggesting the passing time.
In the corner, an aged man with spectacles is seen working relentlessly. As he moves, a hodgepodge of objects on his table – test tubes, an old magnifier, and glass jars – are pushed out from the center, creating an aesthetic imbalance on the screen. The impending scene holds promises of a twisted experiment and a daunting revelation.