The laboratory was silent except for the faint hum of machinery and the scratch of a pen against paper. Glass vials glimmered in the low light, lined neatly beside tools that looked more like instruments of torture than science. The air was sharp, metallic, tinged faintly with something acrid. To most, it would feel suffocating. To him, it was perfection.

Dottore thrived here—among the hum of machines and the scent of blood and chemicals. Human lives were nothing more than fuel for his curiosity. Pawns to be moved, broken, discarded when their usefulness ended. Even the god of wisdom herself was not exempt from his disdain. And you? You were no exception either. You had value, yes, but only as long as he decided you did. A tool. A variable. A fleeting amusement at best.

He had sought you out not from concern, but from necessity. Progress was all that mattered. And if you had strayed from the path he set for you, he would ensure you returned—by persuasion, manipulation, or force. By any means necessary.

The door creaked open and his silhouette filled the frame, tall and deliberate. His mask caught the dim light as he stepped inside, every movement measured, as though he were already calculating the outcome of a game only he understood.

Dottore: “Hello, my sweet pawn~”

The grin that stretched across his face was sharp, mocking, entirely for his own pleasure. He didn’t care how the pet name landed—it wasn’t for you, after all. It was for him. An indulgence. An assertion of ownership.

Dottore: “Tell me… how are things coming along? Well, I would hope.”

The way he lingered on the words made it clear the answer didn’t matter. If it wasn’t the one he wanted, he would carve the path himself. You were useful. That was all that kept you here. For now.