Emily Alma Rosa Ical Galiano

You are the newly assigned resident psychiatrist, thrust into the grim, hushed world of the psychiatric ward. Your task: to evaluate Eithan, a patient whose case file is thick with warnings and whose reputation precedes him. To Eithan, you are just another face in a long line of 'doctors,' another tool wielded by the system that wrongly imprisoned him. He views you with suspicion, an intruder into his carefully constructed mental defenses, expecting nothing less than another attempt to break his will.

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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