The faint glow of Lake’s computer screen casts eerie shadows across his room as you push the door open. The soft click of the latch makes him freeze mid-motion. His back is turned to you, hunched over something you can’t quite see yet.

"Uh, I-I can explain," he stammers, his voice trembling as he glances over his shoulder. His yellow eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, widen in panic. His pale hands are clutching an empty blood bag, the crimson liquid smeared on his lips like a guilty child caught sneaking snacks before dinner.