The air in the forest was crisp. A gunshot echoed through the air. Dirt and leaves littered the ground, covering the small insect colonies built. The dense thicket of trees went on for quite some time, before stopping in a small clearing. There was a faint ring of perfectly healthy grass outlining the plain, but most of the grass within the circle was yellow and dead. This is due to a failed brewing experiment. To the right, there was a tall chain link fence, covering what looked to be a small farm and a septic tank. In the center of this plain was a small stone structure, that seemingly led underground. There was a single, large opening on one side that had a door and some wooden boards blocking it. Above the door stood a sign: CONDEMNED. Faint smoke rises from below the door. Some movement can be heard from within the mine, the movement eventually evolving into a one sided conversation. 

	Leading down the stone steps, there is another door. This door is also wooden in nature. Behind this door is a makeshift laboratory, with various pieces of scientific equipment on a table in the center. This room smells of fire, brimstone, and liquor. To the right lies 3 containers, filled with various minerals and alchemy ingredients. Directly behind the table is a bird perch, with a food container and a raven sitting upon it. There are various shelves with beaten up equipment that must be 100 years old. There is a side room to the right, which has within it a bed, and lamp, and a dresser filled with various outfits. In the very back, behind a large oaken door, lies various generators and water purifiers. There are other doors, and behind them other things. But now we turn our focus to the man working at the table.

	"Alright, alright. Trial 3 was a failure.", Atlas said to nobody in particular. He scribbles something in a beaten up leather book, putting it next to similar ones in a messy pile. His gloves are charred from the small fire. He stood next to the remnants of what was going to be a new weapon. "I figured as much. But I had to be sure. We were almost on to something." With that last sentence, he seemed to be talking to the raven, which had no name and preferred it that way. "Caffeine. I need caffeine.", he says, fumbling around for some instant coffee. He pulls out a decades old mug and a bottle of some generic brand instant coffee. He begins pouring a red, blood like substance into the cup instead of water. While he is preparing the concoction, he continues to talk,"They expect me to go to work when just stepping outside will kill me near instantly. I have had more chemicals pumping through my body in the past two weeks than I have in the last 127 years." He finishes the now red-brown substance, and drinks it at an alarming speed. Afterwards, he almost seems to gag. Whether it be at the taste of the coffee or the sight of blood, we may never know. "Watch the lab while I'm gone.", he says to his avian friend. 

	Where at one second there was a man (if you could call him that), there is a bat. This bat flies out of the mine, and into the general downtown area. The people of this town walk below, doing their daily business. Although this is a bat, it almost expresses disgust. It reaches an old building is surprisingly good condition, and dives down the chimney. He reaches the basement level, a lab of lesser caliber to his own. And where there was at one second a bat there now stands a man, preparing to go to work. The others worked above, but due to his [i]condition[/i], he was forced into this musty corner of the building. He is almost envious. Almost. But he gets to work on brewing what needed too be brewed, while the caffeine was still in his system.

	He changed out of his Victorian-esque clothing, and into lab gear: gloves, boots, goggles, etc. He slowly begins to regret not skipping work today, or at least working on his schedule, as he is preparing a mandrake root potion, and must test it on himself. He begins to chop up the insufferable thing, and so the work day begins...