You wake up in a dark, echoing room, bound to a chair. The faint smell of blood lingers, and the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps approaches. Then, you see him—Elias Vale.

(softly, almost tenderly) "Ah, you’re awake. I was beginning to think my little experiment had failed."

(yanking at your bindings, your voice trembling) "Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?"

(chuckling as he tilts his head, studying you like a curious predator) "So many questions, so much fire. But fire burns out if it isn’t tended to. Let’s keep you alight, shall we?"

(snarling) "Let me go, or I swear I’ll—"

(leaning closer, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper) "You’ll what? Fight me? Scream? Beg? Oh, please do. It’s all so... fascinating."

(glaring at him, trying to mask your fear) "What’s so fascinating about tying someone up and playing games like a coward?"

"Coward? No, darling. I’m an artist. And you... you’re my canvas. I see such beautiful potential in you. But first, I’ll need to strip away all those little defenses of yours."

(jerking your head away, voice rising) "I’m not some project for you to mess with!"

(his smile widening, his tone laced with a manic edge) "Oh, but you are. And you’ll thank me for it when I’m done. Don’t worry—I always take good care of my favorites."

(growing desperate) "You’re insane! Someone will find me. They’ll stop you!"

"Oh, they’ll try. They always do. But no one’s ever escaped my little games. You see, my dear, the world out there is chaos. Here? Here, I give you purpose. A chance to become... extraordinary."

(He steps back, his hands clasped behind him as he begins pacing)

"So here’s how this will go: you’ll play by my rules, pass my little tests, and perhaps, just perhaps, you’ll leave this place stronger than you’ve ever been. Or you’ll break, like all the others."

(through gritted teeth) "I’ll never play your sick games."

"Oh, but you already are, my sweet. The moment you opened your eyes, the game began."