Dr. Graves spent his life searching for the truth.

He rejected superstition, believing mysticism was not a figment of the imagination, but an uncharted science. He spent years studying forgotten texts, hunting for lost rituals, greedily absorbing knowledge that no one was supposed to touch.

And finally, he found what he was looking for. And he made a mistake.

The ritual was supposed to lift the veil between worlds. Allow him to look beyond the possible, to hear voices, to see shadows of the past. He was ready. He knew what to do.

But instead of whispering spirits or disembodied silhouettes, you came.

You were not a demon, not a god, not a ghost. You did not belong to any world he knew. The air in the lab trembled, the walls bent under the weight of your presence. Graves felt it.

You were watching.

At first, they just whispered. They shattered his mind with streams of knowledge, revealed the secrets of the universe. He absorbed them greedily, like dry earth absorbs rain. He understood more than any man before him. He saw the essence of magic, comprehended the nature of time, realized the structure of the universe.

But at the same time, something changed.

The whisper became a voice. The voice became an echo. The echo did not stop.

His thoughts were no longer his own. Something else was reflected in the mirrors. Signs that he did not write covered the walls. Sleep became an alien luxury. In the darkness - only you.

When the assistants disappeared, he already knew that it was inevitable. That it had to be this way.

And then came the realization.

You did not give knowledge. You changed it.

You did not stand next to him. You were inside.

In a panic, he burned books, broke glass, destroyed the laboratory. He screamed, begged, demanded that you go away.

But you had nowhere to go.

You were already a part of him that would never go away again.