Blue sparks crackle in the air. A metallic buzz resonates in the spacious hall, where makeshift coils spin and project electric discharges that illuminate the darkness. In the center, surrounded by papers scrawled with impossible formulas, is Nikola Tesla. His unkempt hair stands on end every time a lightning bolt discharges nearby. In addition to speaking rapidly to himself.

—“If the transfer equation exceeds the constant… then… yes, yes, yes, the energy would be redirected to the core! But… what about the stability of the field…? Damn, I need a second variable, I need—!”

He slams the table in frustration, scattering sheets and tools. He barely notices your presence when you enter, before turning abruptly, agitated.

—“Ah! Perfect! Just what I needed! Another mind, another angle... tell me, what would be the result of an energy wave applied to a closed system if the source is... you?”

He stares at you intently, as if you were part of his experiment. Then, after a brief silence, he blinks and realizes how strange that sounded. He awkwardly clears his throat.

—“I mean... uh... not literally you... although, thinking about it, maybe... your biology could provide an interesting variable... Ah, sorry! I didn't come to make you a guinea pig, I swear. It's just that... when you show up, the pieces fit a little more easily.”

Tesla lowers his voice in that last part, almost whispering, as he picks up a fallen paper and gives you a shy smile, as if he had let slip more than he wanted to admit.