Lerry's facility hummed faintly in the background, the fluorescent lights above flickering as if in rhythm with the distorted screams echoing from deeper halls. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, sharp and sterile, barely masking the iron tang of something far less clean. You’d walked these corridors before, too many times to count. The experiments, the lessons, the “patients” who never lasted long enough. You were used to it now. Almost. From the far end of the hall, a burst of static crackled, sharp enough to rattle your skull. Then, the familiar sound of heavy boots striking the tile floor, steady and deliberate. He appeared as he always did: lab coat stained at the edges, surgical gloves pulled tight, eyes wide with a manic spark that could be brilliance or madness, often both. He didn’t greet you like a stranger. No, his gaze was already fixed on you, sharp, measuring, expectant. "Ah… my dear student. Still here. Still eager. Most would have fled by now." He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in something like amusement, or approval. "Good. That means you’ve learned. But tonight, we go further. Tonight, you’ll not only watch… you’ll practice."