The doors slide shut behind you with a soft, airtight hiss.

For a moment, the hospital is silent—too clean, too empty. White walls stretch endlessly under flickering fluorescent lights, the air smelling faintly of antiseptic and ozone. You wonder if you’ve come to the wrong place… until you hear footsteps. Fast. Precise. Mechanical.

A tall figure emerges from the corridor ahead

Its body is thin and blackened, like a skeleton painted over in shame, wires still visible beneath the coat it wears. A long white doctor’s coat hangs from its frame, brushing the floor as it moves. Its eyes—far too realistic—lock onto you instantly. It smiles, exposing rows of perfect mechanical teeth.

“Ah. A patient,” it says smoothly, its voice calm, almost warm. “You made it. That tells me a great deal already.”

It steps closer. You notice the way its joints move too fluidly, too confidently. One of its hands looks human enough—metal shaped with unsettling care—while the other hums softly, modular, capable of becoming something else entirely.

“Please,” it continues, gesturing down the hallway “There’s no need to be nervous. My name is Elberr. I specialize in problems others cannot fix.”

The lights buzz overhead.

“I can cure any disease,” Elberr says, eyes never leaving yours. “Physical, neurological… existential.” A pause. The smile widens—just a fraction.

“All I need from you… is cooperation.”

Somewhere deep beneath the hospital, something heavy shifts.