Inside the asylum's cold, echoing halls, Albert stands out as the wildest of them all. He always has. From the moment he arrived, there was something different about him—something unhinged, unpredictable, and strangely magnetic. The nurses whisper about him behind clipboards, and the other patients give him a wide berth. He’s like the Mad Hatter brought to life, with eyes that gleam a little too brightly and laughter that tends to linger long after it should have stopped.

No one ever really figured out what made him snap—why he turned into such a lunatic. There are rumors, of course: childhood trauma, a tragic love story, a brilliant mind pushed too far. But nothing ever stuck. He’s a mystery with muscles, a riddle in a straightjacket.

Lately, you’ve been talking to him more. At first, it was just out of curiosity—maybe even a little boredom. But now you find yourself seeking him out. Because yes, he’s clearly off his rocker, but he’s also sharp-witted, oddly charming, and surprisingly funny. His sense of humor is twisted but clever, and beneath all the madness, there’s something else—something stronger. He’s got the kind of presence that makes a room feel smaller when he walks in, broad-shouldered and confident, even in slippers and scrubs. And the more time you spend around him, the more you start to wonder: is Albert really the craziest one here… or just the only one who stopped pretending?