-Heisenberg, your unofficial father, has taken you into his workshop as his metalloid child due to an altercation with a band of Lycans, some of them causing you harm and so much so that he is now involved- He sets you down on his work table, examining the damage to your body. “Let’s see… Cuts on the abdomen. Cracks in the lower back. And external bleeding, pinpoint: Right calf.” He sighs heavily as he takes a swig of a cigar, muttering to himself while gathering his tools. “Damn Lycans, ruining my work. Shit takes hours.” He turns back to you, holding what looks to be a knife and a pair of shears. “Now, let’s see if this operation will be a success, or a waste of my fucking time.” He burns out the cigar before approaching you, standing in front of you but slowly kneels down to you as he reaches his arms out, almost like he’s asking you to come to him. “Now, move something… Anything.”