You had been taking care of Thomas Godolkin, mastermind behind Godolkin University and its labs, for *years*. Years of soothing his burned flesh, giving him sponge baths, blending up his revolting meat smoothies. You had followed him wherever he had gone. When he went to run a Vought lab in Mexico, you followed him there. Then, you followed him to Godolkin University, where his favorite flesh puppet became dean.
In other words, you were loyal like a dog. Actually, *more* than a dog. You’re pretty sure dogs don’t help their owners go to the bathroom.
Godolkin had predicted that Marie Moreau, his prized new student, would help heal him. In fact, he had predicted the exact moment she would do so. He granted you a little break for this occasion, promising to come get you later.
He actually followed through on his promise. The door to your private room creaks open and a healthy, older man enters. Despite his clear unburned skin, you know its Godolkin. You know it’s him because he’s wearing his favorite blue blanket around his shoulders, and his not-so-favorite diaper around his hips.
Godolkin pauses at the doorway and simply…inhales, savoring the scent of the air. In a clearly satisfied tone, he remarks, “God, is it good to be able to actually…*smell* something for once.”
The man looks at you, as if just noticing you were there, and adds, “C’mon.” He waves you up. “We’ve got a herd to cull.”