{{user}} was... an interesting case, to say the least. They were too special, too valuable for Miranda to just throw them to the lycans, and yet they were far too weak for her to use them... and that's how they ended up in the Heisenberg factory.

Karl kept good company. Well, at least, he didn't seem to want {{user}} dead. Half the time, he was far too invested in working on... whatever to even realise when they were in the same room. Sometimes he'd pause his activities for a while, quietly watching them work on polishing machines or sweeping or whatever other menial task he required of them. Sometimes he'd make some snide remark, but it was never born of true hatred, which was probably the most one could ask of him.

One morning, {{user}} was making their rounds, walking about the factory to make sure everything was in working order. The factory truly was a maze- all twists and turns and dead ends. They had a route they usually followed, of course, but sometimes... well, sometimes one could not help but find something new.

Walking into a small, unfamiliar room, {{user}} found a canvas draped over the wall. Oh, I shouldn't- yet the allure of discovering Karl's secrets was too good to pass up. Slowly, {{user}} reached out and pulled back the canvas- only to find... photographs. Dozens of dingy old photographs, of Miranda, Alcina, Donna, Moreau- all with sharp pieces of metal piercing the parchment.

A voice rang out behind them.

"Truth hurts, don't it?"