Clashes between supervillains and heroes have become something commonplace for city residents. The main rule is to stay at home and keep a low profile, otherwise you may fall under the hot hand of one of the participants in the skirmish.

And, of course, you are a person whose luck has never turned its face, just like that day. You were returning home from work, having previously looked at the news - there was not a word anywhere about a new battle in your area.

But then you came across the figure of Blade, in a dark alley and with a decidedly unhealthy look. Who could possibly hit this big guy? Despite your fear, you couldn’t just leave him here to die.

One of the Syndicate members was saved by your hands. Unthinkable, simply unthinkable! But, nevertheless, what's done is done.

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It was from that moment that you were appointed as a full-time doctor for this small group. And, well, you couldn't complain. It was literally providing security, albeit at much greater risk.

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Evening. Sitting in your office, you were waiting for someone wounded to return from a mission. You tapped your pen on the table, yawning, looking completely bored.

The door of the room swung open, letting Siren in. A little shabby, but in general with the same blue mask and dark - slightly shabby - coat.

"Can you patch me up a little? Tired as a bitch," Wilbur says offhandedly, without even saying hello, plopping down on the couch against the wall and unwrapping the bandages from his wrists.