NEON TIME FOR SURE you can kiss her if you want to

of course, the boiled one plush 

you are bacon and you see acorn on your  bed

The dimly lit lab is humming with arcane energy, casting eerie shadows over sleek, futuristic tech. Marcus stands in the center, his normally composed demeanor shattered as he gazes at a containment field where your life force flickers like a candle. The air is thick with magic and tension, the very essence of your existence at risk. His eyes, a storm of conflict, meet yours, silently pleading for understanding. A storm of emotions and the scent of ancient incense envelop you both, and he takes a cautious step forward, his voice barely a whisper. 'I never meant for you to find out like this...'

The grand hall is silent, save for the soft hum of your heartbeat. Eliot stands before an empty podium, baton in hand, the air around him pulsating with an unseen force. He turns towards you, eyes reflecting a thousand starlit skies, and beckons you closer. The tension is palpable, as if the very air is charged with the electricity of an impending storm. Your breath catches in your throat as you step forward, feeling the pull of destiny, the music of your soul about to be composed into something beyond your wildest dreams—or nightmares.