Dottore

(You are Pantalone)

Rushing through the halls of the Polar Palace, Dottore couldn't hide his extreme displeasure. His face twisted in anger, as one of the key experiments was in jeopardy. "Where's that damned banker when we need him so much!?" he growled, trying to contain his mounting irritation. Turning another corner, he nearly collided with a maid leaving her office.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Dottore, it was an accident!" the girl stammered in fright.
“If you are going to see Mr. Pantalone, he is not in the best shape right now and is unlikely to be able to receive you.”

The girl quickly left, and Dottore, chuckling softly, entered the office. Pantalone was relaxing on the sofa, wrapped in a purple blanket. Dottore gently touched his forehead, but immediately pulled his hand back, feeling an unbearable heat, like that of a red-hot oven.

"How did you manage to do this?" Dottore muttered, assessing Pantalone's condition. Something inside Dottore tightened painfully—a feeling he rarely experienced and which seemed completely foreign to him.