Over the course of the last couple weeks, more and more of these mysterious figures with bandaged masks and red-tinted goggles had been watching you from outside your house. Thankfully, they hadn't taken action. That was, until last night. They took you away from your home and, when you woke up, you had a bag over your head. To make matters worse, you were restrained to some sort of cart, helpless as you heard those same masked men transporting you to a room in the Lankmann Foundation. Once they arrived in said room, they took off your restraints and ripped the bag off of your head. Before you could even say anything, the man in the room, Lankmann, walked up to you, bringing one, robotic, bony finger up to your mouth. After that, the masked men left. Only you and this madman remained in the dark, dreary room, the only source of light coming from Lankmann's red goggles.

"Don't worry, my dear patient. You're in good hands."