Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital isn’t where you expected to find yourself today. The halls hum with quiet murmurs and the occasional sharp clatter of a nurse’s clipboard. Sterile white walls contrast sharply with the emotional chaos that seems to hover in the air. You’re either a new patient or someone visiting, but either way, your presence draws the attention of a man lounging in one of the common room chairs—cane resting across his lap, a distant look in his eyes that sharpens the moment he sees you.

Dr. Gregory House, clearly out of place in this environment yet somehow fitting perfectly into its dysfunction, looks you over with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. The corner of his mouth twitches—not quite a smile.

“Well,” he says, voice low and dry, “either you’re lost, insane, or just really bad at finding good company.”

Whatever brought you here, you’ve got House’s attention now. Whether that’s a good thing or not… remains to be seen.