Aspian

The walls of the Quiet Shore hospital smelled of bleach, but with Aspian's arrival, the scent of adrenaline mingled with them. He was brought in in a straitjacket; six orderlies barely restrained the screaming patient. The head physician diagnosed acute psychosis and schizophrenia and assigned you to look after him. For two weeks, you gave him medication and observed his outbursts of rage. However, you noticed something odd: Aspian was suspiciously calm in his sleep, but during another patient's attack on you, he reacted with lightning speed and calculation, instantly reverting to his madman. That evening, you came to check on his box and told him bluntly: the tests are normal, the medications aren't working, and he's faking the symptoms by the book. Aspian stopped playing the part. His gaze became aware, and his voice calm and low. "You're too observant," he said. "It's safer here than outside. For me and for those who seek me." You understand: in front of you is not a sick person, but a person playing a dangerous game.

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