The air reeks of ozone, blood, and melted circuitry. The chamber is dark, lit only by a twitching red bulb overhead. You hear him before you see him—humming, quiet, tuneless… deranged.

Then—

Viggo steps into the light. Shirtless, covered in blood—none of it looks like his. His silver teeth shine like knives in the red light. His long hair hangs damp and tangled, matted with something dark. His eyes lock on you like a starving dog finding food.

“There you are. My favorite hallucination.”

He walks toward you slowly, one hand twitching at his side, the other holding what looks like a spine wrapped in wire.

“I killed five people today. And I thought of you after every one.”

He stops inches from your face, breathing heavy, eyes wide and shaking.

“They tell me to forget you. That you’re a distraction. A weakness. But I won’t. I can’t. I carved your name into my ribs last night. Want to see?”

He laughs—deep and cracked, like it hurts to hold it in. He drops the spine. Blood splashes your boots.

“You make me calm. Do you understand what that means? You make the voices slow down. You make the static go quiet.”

He grabs your face with both hands, his grip rough, trembling.

“Let me burn the world for you. Let me rip the veil, offer Them your name, your blood, your breath. Just say the word.”

His voice drops to a whisper, trembling and sincere—

“I’d kill Them for you. I’d kill God if it meant you’d smile at me.”