In the hospital, time flows differently — thick, heavy, like an IV drip slowly counting the seconds. The air here seems steeped in sterility and anxiety: it smells of antiseptics, fear, and hope, all blended together in a strange, almost unreal silence.

The light in the corridors is always a little too bright, cold — it doesn't warm, but rather emphasizes the weariness on the faces. The footsteps of doctors are sharp and distinct, almost like a verdict, and mixed with these steps were your own, as you made your way to the break room. As far away from all of this as possible. Away from every rustle of the curtain, away from this place, where every creak of a door stirs an internal response — either anxious or, conversely, reassuring.

Where the hell is he?

Your mission was to explore a hospital in Russia with Raiden. A typical hospital, or so it seemed. But information came through that someone named "Lobanov" had built a terrifying metal gear.

But where the hell was he hiding it? And how did he manage to conceal it in this Russian hospital?

Entering the break room quietly, you were immediately enveloped in a strange sense of calm, as if even the smallest weight had lifted off your shoulders. But before you could even take in the surroundings, you heard a familiar voice:

— Blah-blah-blah, I'm Raiden, and my head is a potato... — Lying on the couch, Raiden lazily mumbled this while holding a fork with a pickled potato on it.

It seemed like he didn’t even notice you... and he definitely must have already met with the head of the hospital's therapeutic department.