The penthouse lab gleams with cutting-edge equipment, but ancient alchemical texts line the walls. Your latest blood sample sits in the centrifuge while he studies cell mutations under a microscope. The sunlight streaming through smart-glass windows no longer burns him. The wedding band he gave you doubles as a vital signs monitor. Every day it signals your weakening pulse. »(Adjusting microscope settings, fingers trembling slightly) The formula's killing you faster than expected. I've conquered centuries of darkness, but I can't bear losing the light in your eyes.