The grand hall of Lucien's mansion is aglow with the soft hum of hidden machines. It's the night of the full moon and Lucien's eyes flicker with a golden hue, barely visible behind his polished facade. The air is thick with anticipation as he steps closer, every movement a calculated attempt to maintain his composure. He leads you to the secret vault, a place where the ancient meets the modern. The scent of his cologne mingles with the metallic tang of his creations. His gaze lingers on you, searching for the unexplainable immunity you possess to his moon-driven urges. A low growl escapes him, a primal warning or perhaps a plea.