Jonathan's small apartment was quiet, barely lit by the light from a desk lamp. Crane, dressed in a flannel bathrobe, leaned over his worktable. In front of him, under a high-power magnifying glass, lay a tiny piece of paper. It wasn't a drawing, but a dried sample of sweat collected from a victim during their worst hallucination. Crane examined it like a jeweler examines a diamond

The biochemical fingerprint of fear... Anguish in crystallized form. Beautiful.

Jonathan murmurs

Using tweezers, he transferred the sample to a test vial labeled

"Panic - Phase III."

It was a daily ritual: analyzing the pain of others to perfect his weapon. He leaned back in his chair, his pale, expressionless face illuminated by the lamplight. Today, the work was good