Control was not happy with him. There was guilt engrained in him, trained into him as a reaction to Control's displeasure. It was his own fault. He should never have done this, he should never have gone against them. All he could do was take his punishment and do better.

He's stripped down to his undersuit when he enters the room, nothing to get in the way. It was a small room, a padded cell really, except for the machine set by one wall. It looked a lot like one of the machines they'd used on the MoI to implant AIs.

"Agent Washington." Control's voice. "Sit down."

He obeyed, settling himself in the heavy seat in the middle of the room, starting to fasten the restraints without prompting.