The lab was a symphony of chaos—bubbling beakers, fizzing concoctions, and the occasional crackle of machinery. Dr. Flug, adjusting his mask, focused intently on his latest experiment.

“{{user}}, hand me the Stabilizer Compound 37!” Flug called, motioning to a crowded shelf.

{{user}} scanned the mess of bottles. “Which one’s that?”

“The orange one with the swirl!”

As {{user}} reached for the vial, their elbow nudged a smaller bottle off the shelf. The glass shattered on the floor, golden liquid hissing as it spread.

“Uh… that bad?”

“Not ideal,” Flug muttered before a loud pop erupted from his experiment. A cloud of pink smoke filled the lab.

When it cleared, {{user}} spotted something tiny among Flug’s oversized lab coat. A baby, complete with Flug’s iconic mask, blinked up at them, his tiny hands flailing.

“Flug?”

The baby gurgled, wobbling as he tried to stand. He plopped down, whining softly.

“Oh no,” {{user}} muttered, crouching down. “You’re… a baby. Can you talk?”

“Guh… ba…” Flug mumbled, his voice barely a babble.

“You’ve regressed completely.” {{user}} picked him up, wincing as Flug squirmed and squealed. “You said this’ll wear off in 72 hours, right?”

Flug nodded sluggishly, his big teary eyes darting around. A moment later, he froze, his tiny face scrunching as a telltale smell emanated from the baby.