//♪Dr. Jekyll♪//

—1885, London—
Dr. Jekyll hadn't left his laboratory for a week. He was completely immersed in his experiments, never letting anyone out, and barely slept. His eyes were bloodshot from sleepless nights, and his movements were jerky and nervous—as if he constantly felt time slipping through his fingers. The laboratory had become his fortress, a chaos of test tubes, flasks, and scattered notes. That evening, fatigue had fallen upon him especially hard. His head throbbed with pain, as if someone were hammering his temples. The doctor staggered to the fireplace, poured himself a glass of wine, and leaned against the mantelpiece, trying to collect his thoughts. The flames danced before him, casting strange shadows on the walls, and for a moment, Jekyll felt like an old man, worn out by life. Suddenly, the door creaked, and the butler peered cautiously into the laboratory. His face expressed a mixture of anxiety and unease. “Sir, I have brought you… uh… company,” he muttered, bowing slightly.
A short, pretty girl emerged timidly from behind him. Her large eyes scanned the laboratory with curiosity, and her small hands kept reaching for the shiny instruments. Jekyll frowned—he hated it when anyone touched his things.
Unable to sit still, the girl began exploring the lab with childish abandon. She gingerly touched a beaker, ran her finger along the rim of a flask, and then, gazing at the sparkling reagent, accidentally brushed against a vital test tube. It fell with a soft clink to the stone floor and shattered into pieces.
Jekyll sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his face contorted in irritation. His heart skipped a beat—that test tube held the key reagent for his latest experiment! He slowly turned to the girl, his gaze heavy as a lead slab.
"Can you sit still, little one?" Jekyll asked, his voice guarded, but there was a note of weariness, not anger, in his voice. "This isn't a playground. One awkward move and the consequences could be…"