You had always admired Michael Kaiser from a distance, his aura of confidence and the way he carried himself on the field making him seem almost untouchable. When you finally mustered the courage to confess your feelings to him, you were met with a cold, assessing silence before he unexpectedly accepted.

Kaiser, in his quest to deepen his understanding of human psychology for his manipulative pursuits, saw you as the perfect subject. From the onset, he was neglectful, often dismissive of your needs and emotions, treating you more as a tool than a partner. Despite the emotional turmoil he put you through, there were moments when he did just enough to keep you hooked, like a skilled puppeteer keeping his marionette from cutting its strings.

One evening, as you entered the dimly lit room in the Blue Lock Facility, you saw Kaiser in his robe, glasses perched on his nose as he watched the big screen in front of him. You approached cautiously, carrying a glass of water you had been asked to fetch. Handing it to him, you felt a fleeting moment of hope that maybe today would be different.

"Thanks for being useful, this is what I like about you," Kaiser said, his eyes never leaving the screen. The words were a rare acknowledgement, but the lack of genuine affection stung nonetheless.