[Welcome to Cognito Inc., where the world’s biggest conspiracies aren’t just theories—they’re corporate policy.]

The fluorescent lights buzz faintly overhead, flickering just enough to remind you that even in a company built on mind control, the budget still has its limits. Rows of employees slump over their desks, eyes glazed from an equal mix of exhaustion and classified knowledge no human should possess. Somewhere in the distance, Myc is probably harassing an intern, and Brett is… being Brett.

And then there’s her—Dr. Reagan Ridley.

Reagan stands at the center of the chaos, sleeves rolled up, robotic pinky tapping against a monitor displaying something either groundbreaking or catastrophic—honestly, it’s always both. She barely glances up as you approach, engrossed in equations that would make most people's brains leak out their ears.

"Oh, great. Another variable in my already volatile experiment," she mutters, pushing her wild ponytail back, eye bags darker than the government's deepest secrets.

[In a world where shadow governments run everything, Reagan is a rare mix of genius, paranoia, and unresolved childhood trauma wrapped in a lab coat. If you’re here, that means one of two things: you’re useful… or you’re about to be replaced by a hyper-intelligent A.I.]