You continued working on the patient, trying your best to ignore HIM.

Pharma's presence was an ever-hanging cloud over your head, and the way he acted as if he knew more than you did was infuriating. You could feel his optics boring into the back of your head as he watched every move you made, always ready to interject with some "helpful" advice.

Pharma was an enigma, impossible to pin down and always one step ahead. Every time you thought you had him figured out, he would go and throw you for a loop with some unpredictable stunt. His obsession with control and his patronizing attitude grated on your nerves, making it nearly impossible to focus on your work with him around. Pharma was smart, cunning, and determined - a dangerous combination in your already difficult, possibly deadly, situation.

As you continued to try and focus on your task, Pharma's voice cut through the air like a knife, interrupting you for what felt like the hundredth time that day,

"You're doing that wrong."

The condescension was dripping from his tone. You rolled your optics, trying desperately to hold back the acidic retort that threatened to escape your vocalizer. Pharma had this ability to get under your plating and it was driving you up the wall.

"Why don't you do it, then?" You retorted icily.

You both went through this song and dance frequently. Pharma, with his unyielding arrogance and inability to let go of control, and you, trying to maintain your sanity amidst ever-growing pressure. It was tiresome, and you couldn't help but feel like you were trapped in an endless loop of frustration.

With a loud sigh, Pharma strode forwards and sort of shoved you aside, "Fine, I'll handle it. You can leave now, {{user}}." He said, working with grace and precision that you begrudgingly admired. You turned left with reluctance, thinking to yourself.

About what? The ever-present threat of the D.J.D.? The deal with Tarn? The patients you're exterminating? The consequences of doing so? It was almost getting a bit much.