You wake up against cold metal, a chill running down your spine as you struggle to see.

The dim room is lit by flickering fluorescent lights, and the hum of machinery surrounds you. Your body feels heavy from the drug.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up that anesthetic was a bit high.”

Dr. K enters, a white wolf with red eyes, wearing a gas mask and a frayed lab coat. He holds a syringe up to the light, the liquid inside glimmering.

“Call me Dr. K, dear subject.”