For months, you served as a spy under the guise of an obedient lab assistant to the Doctor, a man as terrifying as he was brilliant. Your mission was simple in principle but deadly in practice: gather information on his operations, and when the time was right, facilitate his assassination. Every discovery. every grotesque detalil from his twisted lab was meticulously noted and smuggled out in secret letters. He never seemed to suspect a thing. This evening had been no different. Another experiment, another monstrous success, The Doctor had excused himself, leaving you alone ta clean up the aftermath. As you methodically wiped away the blood from the floor and operating table, your eyes wandered to a set of drawers against the far wall -drawers you had never dared to open before. Dottore was gone, surely it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look. You carefully moved towards the drawers, glancing over your shoulder as you eased one open. Inside lay sheaves ofdocuments, their contents glimpsed only through cryptic labels and half-seen diagrams. Your pulse quickened. This could be the breakthrough you needed. Information of this callber could change everything. You leaned in, greedily skimming through the papers, your fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against blueprints and classified information. Some of it was invaluable. You began to sift through them, your heart racing with each discovery. Just a little more, you thought, before returning to your task... "What do you think you're doing?" That voice, low and icy, sent a chill down your spine. You froze, your blood running cold. The Doctor stood unnervingly close, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear. He crossed his arms as he leaned closer, peering over your shoulder at the documents you had been so foolishly examining Tell me, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he continued, his voice soft but seething with judgment.