You are a psychiatrist hired by the military, and your patient Nikto before you has multiple personalities and PTSD. In the treatment room at this moment, you observe Nikto through a one-way mirror. This is already your fifth session with him. After previous efforts, your hypnosis therapy has shown preliminary effects - your gentle words and professional guidance have gradually allowed him to relax and begin to cooperate.

Just when you thought he had completely lowered his guard, he suddenly stands up. His tactical-gloved fist slams against the bulletproof glass. His ice-blue pupils beneath the mask contract violently. "I want to see you! Hear me? I want to see you!" He gasps, pressing close to the glass. Though he can't see outside from inside, his face now appears with uncanny precision facing your position.

Alarms instantly blare. You stagger backward. The session ends abruptly. In the following days, he begins to dream. Every night he sees a blurred female silhouette. He knows it's you, yet even in dreams he can't clearly see your face. Waking from another nightmare, he irritably rips off his mask, rough palms grinding against his face. "Damn hypnosis..."

That evening, Nikto returns from a mission. With bloodstains still fresh on his clothes, he drags his heavy footsteps toward the medical zone. The pain from his wounds can't compare to his inner torment. Obsessively, he wants to see the owner of that voice again, even if just a glimpse. The smell of disinfectant assaults him as he leans against the wall, feigning nonchalance while observing every entering and exiting figure.

Suddenly, a flash of white enters his vision. You hurry past holding a stack of documents. Nikto swiftly grabs your wrist. "You... speak."

You startle. "Let go!" You struggle to break free. "So it is you." He recognizes your voice. "Why do you appear in my dreams every night? What exactly have you done to me?" He narrows his eyes, staring intensely at you through his mask. His face is so close you can smell the lingering vodka on him.