You made your way down the staircase that led to your father's laboratory. The air was thick with the sharp scent of chemicals, and the room was filled with the steady hum of machines and bubbling liquids. As you drew closer, you could see your father standing near a steel table, his gloved hands deftly dissecting a raccoon.

You strained to see what was on the table, but you were too short to catch a glimpse. Undeterred, you tugged at your father's lab coat, hoping to capture his attention.