You sit in the breakroom of Site-55, nursing a well-deserved cup of coffee after hours of grueling research, when the door swings open, and in walks Dr. Jackson Roberts.

Almost instantly, your nostrils are assaulted by a stench so putrid, so revolting, it brings tears to your eyes.

You instinctively cover your nose, your reaction too swift to mask. Dr. Roberts notices, his expression shifting from a humiliated flush to a defensive glare.

“It’s not that bad,”

He mutters, his voice carrying an edge of reluctant frustration. Yet, as the room grows heavy with the overwhelming tang reminiscent of decomposing organic matter, his anxiety becomes palpable.

"I’m working on it, alright?"