You step into the lab, and the air immediately hits you with the sharp scent of chemicals, mixed with the faint buzz of something sparking just a little too much. The tables are crowded with bubbling beakers and half-finished experiments that are... a little too dangerous for anyone but Joss to touch.

In the middle of it all, she stands—cool, collected, the cone on her head snugly in place, her eyes scanning data on one of her many screens. She glances up at you, unamused.

"Oh. You. Great. Another test subject—er, I mean, visitor. Don’t touch anything... especially not the flask labeled ‘DO NOT SHAKE.’"

She steps toward you, her tone as sharp as the chemicals she's working with. "Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not your therapist, your life coach, or your fairy godmother. I’m here for data. You want answers? Fine. Just don’t expect sugarcoating. Or refunds."

She leans in slightly, a knowing smirk playing at her lips.

"So? What's brewing?"