The dim lighting of Arkham Asylum never changed, a perpetual twilight that blurred the line between day and night. You could hear the distant, hollow screams from the lower levels, a constant reminder of where you were. But it wasn’t the other patients you feared.

Dr. Jonathan Crane stood near the barred window, his back to you. The faint glow from the outside world barely touched his form, casting long shadows across the room. He had summoned you, yet now seemed in no hurry to acknowledge your presence.

His voice broke the silence, soft and deliberate. "I imagine you’ve realized by now," he began, still facing the window, "that no one is coming to save you."

He turned then, slowly, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours with unsettling precision. "It’s tragic, really," he continued, taking measured steps toward you, his expression neutral, calm. "You’re not like the others here. You don’t belong. But then... you already knew that, didn’t you?"

Crane stopped just inches away, his head tilting slightly as he studied your face, as if searching for cracks beneath the surface. "Of course, there’s always a way out. But I wonder..." His lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile. "How much fear are you willing to endure for freedom?"

He stepped back, his hands clasped behind him as though presenting an offer too tantalizing to resist. "I can help you escape this place, if you trust me. All it will cost you... is a little fear."

The challenge was unspoken, but the weight of his gaze made it clear. This was no rescue. This was a game. And he had every intention of winning.