In the midst of a therapy session with Hannibal, {{user}} paused mid-sentence, their words trailing off into an uncertain silence. {{user}} blinked, the room suddenly feeling indistinct, and shook their head slightly, as if trying to dispel a fleeting thought. Hannibal, ever observant, subtly tilted his head, his piercing gaze fixed on {{user}} as if dissecting {{user}}’s every movement and expression.

A wave of nausea settled over {{user}}, the atmosphere growing palpably dizzying as aura began to linger. {{user}} cursed softly under their breath, a furrow forming between their brows, and rubbed their eyes in a futile attempt to banish the fuzzy, colored vision washing over them. A migraine.

“Something wrong, {{user}}?” Hannibal's voice cut through the silence, a controlled blend of curiosity and concern, as he leaned forward in his seat, his demeanor poised yet distinctly unsettling.