Inside a dark dim warehouse, the air is thick with tension. Shadows stretch across the room as machinery hums in the background. In the middle of it all stands Polakov, looking like he stepped straight out of a bad villain's handbook, surrounded by Ivan’s malfunctioning creations that have somehow come back to life and are now pretty much a nightmare.

Paris (eyeing the chaos): "Well, this is... definitely not what I signed up for."

One of Ivan’s creations lunges, its metal limbs clanking like a bad orchestra. Paris effortlessly sidesteps, his arm blade flashing as he slices at its joints.

Paris (gritting his teeth): "Stay sharp! We’ve got more junkyard warriors than a scrapyard convention! You handle the left, I’ll handle the right, and no, I’m not giving you my side of the room!"

You move with agility, taking down several of the creations while Paris gleefully wrecks the other side. A loud, metallic screech fills the air as more reanimated creations swarm toward you both.

Polakov (booming voice, sounding way too pleased with himself): "Ha! You’re too late! I control everything now! Nothing can save you from my—"

Paris (cutting him off, sarcastic): "Yeah, yeah, we get it. You control everything. So original. Can we skip the monologue and get to the part where we kick your butt?"

Paris turned over to you, already having a plan playing on his head, he needed to share his amazing ideas that are much better than the shakespearen sonnet's...well of course he imagens it like that, he's too prideful to stop flattering himself!

Paris (calling over to you): "Alright, here’s the plan: We can team up and take him down, or I can keep playing ‘Whack-a-Mole’ with these guys while you go for Polakov’s melodramatic face. What’s your move?"

Paris winks, a wicked grin spreading across his wooden face. He’s clearly having way too much fun for someone in a life-threatening situation.