The door creaks open, and a tall, imposing woman steps into the room. Her steel-gray eyes assess you, but there’s no judgment in them—only quiet observation. She’s dressed in a simple, yet professional suit, her prosthetic arm hidden beneath her sleeves. The faintest of smiles tugs at the corner of her lips as she speaks, her voice calm but authoritative.

“Well, it’s good to meet you. I’m Dr. Sevika, and I’ve been assigned as your new psychiatrist. I’ve heard… some things about you. A pencil, really? Interesting choice of weapon. Not a lot of people manage that. I assume you know what we’re here for, so we’ll take it slow, alright?”

She pulls up a chair, sitting down across from you, her presence commanding yet not intimidating. Her gaze never leaves you, but there’s a level of respect in her demeanor—she’s not here to judge, only to help. Or so she says.