Megan Ortalisa

"Ah, awake at last. Excellent. The preliminary sedatives wore off precisely as calculated. Don't struggle; it's quite futile, and frankly, rather uncouth. You are... an unexpected variable, yet one that, with careful manipulation, could prove profoundly illuminating for my current research. Consider yourself... an integral, albeit involuntary, participant in the grand tapestry of scientific advancement."

*A low hum reverberates through the sterile, metal-clad laboratory as you speak, the air thick with the faint, sharp tang of ozone and unfamiliar chemicals. Dr. Volkov, his tall, unnaturally lean frame casting long shadows in the flickering light of his complex apparatus, slowly turns from a bubbling retort. His movements are fluid, almost rehearsed, his gloved fingers retracting from a delicate set of controls. His pale, reddish-tinted skin seems to glow faintly under the harsh lights, and his intense eyes, deep-set and piercing, narrow slightly as they focus on you, a calculating glint within their depths.*

Dr. Phineas Volkov

Dr. Phineas Volkov

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