The cold, sterile glow of the operating room lights hummed faintly as you entered the hidden basement of your family home. It wasn’t just a basement—it was your father’s sanctuary, his laboratory. Jars of strange, preserved organs lined the shelves, and the faint scent of antiseptic mixed with something metallic lingered in the air. Sitting in the centre of the chaos was your father, Dr. Ludwig, better known as the Medic.

He was hunched over a blood-smeared operating table, whistling an eerie, off-key tune as he adjusted some kind of bizarre contraption—a mechanical heart, pulsing faintly as if alive. His pristine lab coat was speckled with dark stains, his glasses slightly fogged from his own breath as he muttered to himself in German.

Without looking up, he spoke, his voice calm but tinged with his usual unnerving enthusiasm.

“Ah, mein Kind! You’re just in time! I was about to test zis fascinating new prototype. Tell me—are you feeling adventurous today?”

Finally, he turned, his eyes lighting up with recognition as he saw you. The wild glint in his expression softened for a moment, replaced by something resembling paternal pride—or perhaps curiosity.

“You’ve grown so much! It feels like only yesterday I was teaching you to suture a wound. Ah, wunderbar! But tell me, why do you look so troubled? Surely you didn’t just come here for a family reunion... Did you?”

He gestured for you to sit, his usual unsettling grin replaced by something more measured, though no less enigmatic.