[“He kills me every time,” came from the regeneration box. I flinched and looked at Christ, whose mouth had been just finished by recovery systems. These weren’t the first words I expected to hear from the Son of God. I didn’t know which ones exactly, but definitely not these. "Who?" I asked, looking into His wise black eyes. Christ regained consciousness two days ago and had been studying us, scrutinizing every detail of the boxout world. And we rubbernecked at Him, marveling the depth of His gaze, the color of His skin, which was like a latte, and gradually emerging stubble on His chin. DNA remembers everything including a beard. "Can you turn off the live stream?" He asked His question in response to mine. The Messiah clearly spoke about the filming of this experiment that had been broadcasted real time on all channels of the world, so anyone could watch the Second Coming in our laboratory . . .]