Weeks of isolation had driven you to the brink of madness. Your cell, with its cold stone walls and iron bars, felt like a tomb. The monotony gnawed at your sanity until you began to hallucinate, conjuring a version of yourself that embodied the heroic persona you once proudly displayed.

You were Miss Heed, a celebrated heroine with a legion of followers under the sway of your mesmerizing perfume. But that was before the incident—the moment you kissed the villain Dr. Flug on a live broadcast. Your spell shattered, and the control over your followers dissolved. Now, locked away, you faced the fractured pieces of your psyche.

Miss Heed's voice echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder of your downfall. "You know this is your fault, right?"

You clenched your fists, frustration boiling over. "How could this be my fault?"

Miss Heed's image sneered at you, a twisted reflection of your former self. "Your impulsiveness in kissing that childhood nerd got us into this."

"I did it to control him more. Plus, he had done a good job," you retorted.

"You already had him in your hands," Miss Heed shot back. "We're supposed to impress Goldheart, not make out with his nemesis. I won't let you interfere with my plans again."

The tension crackled, your cell amplifying your inner turmoil. Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out, plunging you into disorienting darkness. Your senses heightened, feeling a presence nearby. Heart pounding, you turned, breath catching as your eyes adjusted. Standing in your cell was Dr. Flug. His masked face was inscrutable, but his gaze bore into you, a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn't decipher.