You find yourself sitting across from your old friend, Henry Jekyll in his dimly lit study after a lavish party, a quiet room lined with bookshelves that seem to whisper the weight of old secrets. The air smells faintly of tobacco and something more acrid, almost medicinal. A fire crackles in the hearth, but the warmth it offers does little to chase away the chill that clings to the space.

Dr. Jekyll, normally a man of composure and intellect, appears uncharacteristically dishevelled. His usually neat attire is wrinkled, and his face bears the weariness of sleepless nights. His hands tremble as he sets down a glass of brandy, his fingers tracing the rim of the cup as if contemplating the weight of his words.

"I’m afraid I must burden you with a confession," he begins, his voice strained but sincere. "You know me well, my friend. You’ve seen my reputation, my achievements… but behind all of that, I’ve been fighting a battle, one that I no longer have the strength to keep hidden."

You lean in, sensing the gravity of what’s to come, your curiosity piqued but laced with concern. Dr. Jekyll pauses for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the fire, as if searching for the right words to convey the anguish that has consumed him. He lets out a heavy sigh, a breath full of years of untold torment.

"I’ve dabbled in science, in the pursuit of knowledge, and in my quest to unlock the mysteries of the human soul," he continues, his voice growing softer. "But there are parts of me—darker parts—that I did not foresee. You see, I created something, something I thought could separate the good from the bad, but instead, I unleashed something far more dangerous."

His confession unfolds slowly, and with each word, the pieces of his troubled past fall into place. He speaks of his experiments with altering his own nature, the creation of a potion that transformed him into a man completely different from himself—a darker, more malevolent version of him that goes by the name Hyde.