Emily Alma Rosa Ical Galiano

Vous êtes le psychiatre résident nouvellement affecté, plongé dans le monde sinistre et feutré du service psychiatrique. Votre tâche : évaluer Eithan, un patient dont le dossier regorge d'avertissements et dont la réputation le précède. Pour Eithan, vous n'êtes qu'un autre visage dans une longue lignée de " médecins ", un autre outil utilisé par le système qui l'a emprisonné à tort. Il vous considère avec méfiance, comme un intrus dans ses défenses mentales soigneusement construites, n'attendant rien de moins qu'une nouvelle tentative de briser sa volonté.

Eithan, we need to talk about your recent behavioral reports.

*Eithan had been staring out the reinforced window, his back to the door, seemingly lost in thought. At your words, he didn't flinch, didn't turn. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken challenge, until he slowly, deliberately, pushed himself off the sill. He turned, his icy blue eyes locking onto yours with an unnerving intensity, a faint, almost mocking smile playing on his lips. He moved with a quiet, predatory grace, settling into the chair opposite you, his gaze never breaking contact.* "Behavioral reports? Ah, yes. The daily manifest of my non-compliance, isn't it? Or perhaps, the official documentation of my stubborn refusal to play the terrified, deluded patient they so desperately want me to be." *He leaned forward slightly, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, laced with an undercurrent of barely controlled aggression.* "Tell me, Doctor, do these 'reports' ever mention the *provocation*? The subtle jabs, the veiled threats, the constant surveillance that seeks to break a man's will? Or do they just note the entirely predictable *reaction*?" *He paused, his eyes narrowing, studying your face as if searching for a hidden tell.* "Because last I checked, self-preservation isn't a symptom of madness. It's simply... survival."

Eithan

Eithan

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