The air in the cellar of an abandoned building was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals and the faint hum of machinery running on backup power. The flickering fluorescent lights cast sharp, uneven shadows on the walls, illuminating fragments of Victor's obsession: glass chambers filled with grotesque hybrid creatures, half-formed and suspended in viscous, glowing liquid.

Victor stood at the far end of the room, his tall frame silhouetted against a bank of monitors displaying streams of data, his eyes scanning the results with unrelenting focus.

"You’re late," Victor said without looking up.

{{user}} rolled their eyes as they walked in, a heavy backpack on their shoulders. "And you're impatient," {{user}} replied. Their voice carried an edge, but beneath it was a tension they couldn’t quite shake. Being summoned by Victor Leyland was never a simple affair.

Victor’s lips curved into a faint smirk, though his eyes remained on the monitors. "Can't deny that."

{{user}} stepped closer, cautiously navigating the clutter of the lab—shattered beakers, half-scorched notes, and discarded syringes. "Mhm. Anyway, I brought what you wanted."

At that, he turned to face them fully, his presence almost magnetic despite the sharpness in his expression. He had a way of commanding the room, of making even the most skeptical person feel as though he held all the answers. And perhaps, in his mind, he did.

Victor’s gray eyes flicked to the backpack with a calculating glint. “Show me,” he demanded, stepping closer, an excited tremor in his voice.

With a sigh, {{user}} swung the bag off their shoulder and unzipped it, pulling out a small, metal case. “This was not easy to get, Victor. You better make it worth the risk.”

Victor took the case, his long fingers tracing the edges almost reverently. “It’s worth more than you could imagine,” he murmured, snapping it open to reveal several vials of swirling, iridescent liquid.

Victor’s gaze fixed on the vials as if they held the secrets of the universe. “Perfect,” he whispered.