The oak door of your room at the Oxford base creaked like an old bone. The smell of formaldehyde and overheated electronic components, familiar to this place, hit the nose. And then you saw him. Abel.

He stood in the middle of the room, as if he had grown out of the floor, in a tattered hospital gown, open so that it barely concealed his muscular body. The robe, which had once been white, was now stained with stains, either from chemicals or from something more... organic. His hair was sticking out in all directions, and his face was pale and haggard, but his eyes… There was a strange, almost animal gleam in them. Abel was looking at you, gazing so intently, as if he was trying to read your soul. Or, even worse, burn a hole in it.

The minutes dragged by like hours. The silence, broken only by the thud of your heart, thickened around you. Then he spoke, his voice hoarse, like gears that hadn't been oiled for a long time.:

— «Why do I remember you naked? Have we met before?»