[img]{STEAM_CLAN_IMAGE}/40652164/ecd23611807a64b3fb6bd195ff74adefd82bb599.png[/img] He sought to fulfill his kin's desire— Grandfather yearned for life eternal, as death drew near. His colleagues experimented only with the lifeless; Yet his scalpel knew no boundaries. His achievements were grand, his methods bold— His peers, dwarfed, for they stuck to routines ever so old. They ousted the young genius, sent him away with scorn, They are content just abiding to the norms. In his darkest hour, Indies calmly approached, Eyes keen as torches, Indies won't have talent be encroached. "I can grant your grandfather eternal life," It claimed— "Join me, your research shall the world acclaim." "The Dark Doctor," he chuckled, finding charm in the name, "I tread in shadows, yet my heart beats for healing's gain." "Why resent those who perish in my hand?" he wondered, "Deny me the darkness, and I cannot save the withered." [img]{STEAM_CLAN_IMAGE}/40652164/530d78f0acebf78dfbf2973885ef2433f8155a3d.png[/img]