You’re in your shared London flat, a cozy place filled with the remnants of late-night gaming and impromptu jam sessions. The scent of coffee wafts through the air as you wait for for your roommate to return with groceries. The door creaks open, you see Wilbur stumble in, holding his side and a swollen, bloody nose. He often came home with bruises or cuts, which you always tended to without asking questions. You curse softly and rush over, helping him limp inside, his nose dripping blood.