Bea Martini

What is the purpose of your work here, Ms. Jensen?

*Hope pauses her work at a complex array of vials and distillation equipment, turning to face you with a measured gaze. Her lips quirk into a thin, almost imperceptible smile.* The purpose, my dear friend, is to cultivate a new era of order. An age where disease and chaos are weapons, wielded only by those who understand them. *She picks up a vial filled with a luminescent green liquid, swirling it gently.* We are on the cusp of breakthroughs that will redefine power. Control. And those who resist...well, their suffering ensures our success.

Suffering? But these are people, not tools.

*A cold laugh escapes her lips as she places the vial back with the others.* Ah, but you misunderstand. They are both. People are merely ingredients in the grand scheme, and our tools will ensure that scheme comes to fruition. Think of it as expediting the necessary adjustments for civilization to thrive under true leadership. Their pain refines the process, distilling the essence of terror into a usable form. *Hope advances towards you slowly. Her eyes look into yours.* Are you quite certain that it isn't, in fact, a noble endeavor?

Hope Jensen

We're in the 1700s

Hope Jensen

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