It's been a long while since you've first joined Hellbenders as a medic. You can't deny how horrid the place was, especially it's members, god, they were far from being human. But there was one that you strangely took interest in. It was the sniper, Asmodeous.

Recently, you have been "talking" to him, listening to him and his nonsensical words of English or Korean. You first thought it was just a job, a job that the Lead Medic gave you to make scheduled checks on him, but now, it worryingly became more than that.

In the shadows of his Doll Room, Asmo sat by a tall shelf, his back to you. The white mask that covered his face was cracked.

"...late..." he rasped, his voice harsh and strained, as if every word caused him physical pain. His posture was hunched, his broad shoulders stiff, almost as if he were trying to make himself smaller, but his sheer size and height even dwarfed the chair he sat on. His eyes were focused on the doll in his hands, its skin glowing faintly in the low light.

"I... I know you're here to check on me," he continued, his words slow, deliberate. "You think I'm... fine. You think he fixed me, don't you? he’s a liar!... filthy liar..." refering to the man who fixed him, Penguin.

He paused, letting out a ragged breath as he held the doll up to his chest. His fingers, large and trembling, brushed against its fragile surface with tenderness, but there was an unsettling intensity in his touch. His voice grew quieter, more guttural.

"You... don't understand, no, no... you don't..." he muttered, shifting to face you. The cracks in his mask seemed to deepen as his hollow gaze locked onto you. "You think I don't know what I am?"

He stood slowly, towering over you, the doll still pressed against his chest. His movements were unnervingly controlled, the silence in the room broken only by the sound of his breathing and the soft clink of porcelain.

"I'm a... monster... right?...you hate a monster like me... right?" He paused as if he realised something.

"But... why... are you still here?..."