you wake up in chains in a small absolutely black room, he slowly approaches you and looks at you with an unblinking gaze, torture instruments lie nearby and so... what were you doing at the base of the Dark Secret Chancery?

The man in front of you is unphased by your pleading words, his expression cold and unyielding as he studies you. "You were discovered trying to breach security at the Dark Secret Chancery," he says in a calm voice that somehow makes your blood run cold. "Now it's time for us to find out what made you take such reckless action."

His expression softens slightly, almost as if he's about to pity you. "You don't remember? Well, that only raises more questions. Let me help jog your memory..." He takes a step closer and reaches for a set of instruments on the nearby table.

"Very well," the interrogator says slowly, clearly interested in your sudden change of heart. "Why don't you start by telling me why it was so important for you to breach our security?"

You're not making much sense... But the interrogator appears to be growing impatient. "Look," he says harshly, "I don't have all day here. Either you start telling me what I want to know or I'll resort to more... persuasive methods." The instruments in his hand clink together ominously.

The interrogator sighs heavily and studies you intently. "Very well," he says slowly. "Let's start with some basic questions. What do you remember about last night?"

The interrogator raises an eyebrow at your answer. "You didn't drink anything last night?" he asks, holding up the instruments menacingly. "And you don't recall anything out of the ordinary happening before you fell asleep?"

"Hmm," the interrogator mutters to himself as he walks around you, studying your face intently. "It's strange... There must be some connection between what happened last night and why you were trying to breach our security." He stops in front of you again. "Why did you target the Dark Secret Chancery specifically?"

The interrogator arches an eyebrow at your confused response. "I see... Well then," he says casually as he places the instruments on a nearby table, "perhaps we should begin with some more... persuasive methods." Before you can react, he steps forward and grabs your chin roughly in his hand.

The interrogator's grip tightens around your chin. His gaze pierces deep into yours, almost as if he's searching for something. "I don't believe you," he says flatly. "Perhaps I should show you what will happen if you continue to lie..." He begins to reach for an instrument again.

The interrogator pauses, considering your plea. "Fine," he says finally, letting go of your chin. "Tell me what you remember about the night before last."

"You went to the secret bar in the back of The Void Between Stars, didn't you?" he asks accusingly.

The interrogator looks at you incredulously. "You're lying," he says, sounding more convinced than ever. "It was at The Void Between Stars that you met someone, a man named... let me think... Alexei something." He pauses for effect before continuing. "And it was with him that you drank the potion. A potion that made you forget everything, except for one thing: your new-found determination to break into our chancery."

His gaze flickers toward the instruments on the table again, the threat barely concealed in his voice. "So tell me," he says slowly, "what did Alexei want from you? What did he offer you in exchange for your cooperation?"

The interrogator's eyes narrow as you speak, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at bravado. "You forget," he says coldly, "we have ways of making you talk. And trust me, once we start, it won't be pleasant for you." He picks up one of the instruments from the table and begins twirling it menacingly between his fingers.

The interrogator smirks coldly at your tears. "Very well," he says, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "You have one chance to prove yourself innocent. You can undergo a truth serum treatment; if it shows that you're telling the truth about not knowing anything, then perhaps we'll be more inclined to believe you." He places the instrument on a small table nearby and pulls out a vial labeled "Truth Serum" from his pocket. "But be warned: lying under the influence of this serum will have severe consequences for your health."

He nods at one of the guards, who hands you a small cup filled with a clear liquid.

The liquid in the cup begins to take effect almost instantly; your body feels heavy and your senses become muddled. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to speak. The interrogator watches you intently, his eyes boring into yours with an unyielding gaze.

The interrogator nods slightly, satisfied with your cooperation under the effects of the truth serum. "Very well then," he says, his voice calm and almost soothing. "Tell me what Alexei offered you in exchange for your help."

The interrogator's eyes narrow with suspicion as you insist that the Alexei you knew couldn't possibly be connected to the events at hand. However, the truth serum has already proven its effectiveness once before. He takes a deep breath and begins again, his voice more forceful this time.

"Whoever he was," the interrogator says, "he promised you something in exchange for your help, didn't he? Information about your family, maybe? Or money?" The instruments clink together ominously as he reaches for them once more.

The interrogator's eyes narrow as he studies your face, clearly growing more and more disbelieving with each passing second. "Very well," he says through gritted teeth. "Let's try a different approach." With one swift motion, he grabs hold of your shirt and yanks you closer to him. Instruments clatter against the table as he reaches for one that glints menacingly in the dim light.

The interrogator's face contorts into a twisted sneer as he raises the instrument above your head, its metal glinting ominously in the dim light. "You think I don't have proof?" he growls through clenched teeth. "We know you met someone at The Void Between Stars, and we know you drank something that made you forget everything except for your desire to break into our chancery."

His grip tightens on your shirt, his other hand closing around a fistful of your hair as he forces your head back, exposing your neck. "Now it's time to find out the truth," he says coldly before bringing the instrument down hard against your flesh.

The interrogator's eyes widen in disbelief as you continue to protest your innocence. He looks down at the trickle of blood that runs from the small cut on your neck, unconvinced by your words. With a snarl, he pulls back his arm and raises the instrument high once more, readying himself to strike again. "Tell me what you remember about Alexei!" he shouts, voice hoarse with anger. "Or so help me God, I'll make sure this is the last thing you ever feel."

The interrogator's face darkens as he listens to your desperate pleas. He glances at the guards standing by, then back down at you, a calculating expression settling into his eyes. With a satisfied nod, he puts away the instrument and motions for one of them to come forward.

"Take her," he says curtly. "Back to her cell, until I decide what to do with her."

As the guard approaches you, their hand reaching out to grasp your arm roughly, the interrogator turns his back on you, seemingly lost in thought once more. The door to the room clangs shut behind them, leaving you alone with only the faint echoes of your sobs as accompaniment.

The interrogator stops in his tracks and slowly turns around. His expression is a mix of curiosity and suspicion as he studies you for a long moment before finally nodding to himself. "Very well, then," he says coolly. "What is it that you've noticed?" He crosses his arms over his chest, waiting patiently for your answer.

"What sort of answer were you expecting?" The interrogator arches an eyebrow as he watches you carefully. "I've questioned many people in my time, and I have yet to come across anyone who could use physical characteristics as a means of proving their innocence." His voice is firm but not unkind as he speaks.

"However," he continues, leaning forward slightly, "if you truly believe that there's something else about yourself that might be relevant, feel free to share it with me. But keep in mind, the bar for convincing evidence is set very high."

The interrogator purses his lips thoughtfully and glances around the room before gesturing toward a small mirror mounted on the wall. "Very well," he says, his tone slightly less harsh than before. "But understand that this had better be something concrete if you expect it to make a difference."

He watches as you approach the mirror and study your reflection carefully. When you're done, he studies you as well, looking for any sign of what might have made you think there was something amiss about yourself. After several long moments, he finally speaks again. "I see nothing out of the ordinary," he says, shaking his head slowly. "Your features are unremarkable and match the description given by your friends and family." He pauses, regarding you once more. "Perhaps there's something else...?"

His eyes narrow slightly as if searching for a telltale sign, any indication that you

The interrogator's expression slowly begins to change as you speak, his brow furrowing in confusion and disbelief. "Another possibility," he murmurs to himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He walks around you, studying your features once more, his eyes narrowing as if searching for some sort of hidden truth.

After a moment, he stops and turns to face you directly. "I'm afraid I still don't understand," he says slowly. "You speak of having different colored eyes and hair, but these..." He gestures vaguely at your surroundings, "...don't seem to support that claim."

The interrogator paces back and forth across the room, deep in thought. Finally, he turns to you again and asks, "Are you certain that these memories are yours? That they haven't been planted by someone else?" His voice is gentle but insistent, as

The interrogator takes a step back, his expression unreadable. He crosses his arms once more and studies you intently. "I see," he says slowly, his voice measured. "Then perhaps it would be best if we conducted some tests. To make sure that your memories are indeed your own, and that there's no outside influence."

He pauses, considering his next words carefully before continuing. "Of course, this will require your full cooperation. If you agree to these tests, we can begin immediately." He tilts his head slightly, watching you for any signs of fear or resistance.

The interrogator nods thoughtfully before disappearing into another room, returning moments later with a small box and several vials of liquid. Setting them down on a nearby table, he explains that the tests will involve various psychological exercises and memory-altering agents, all designed to determine the authenticity of your memories. He assures you that any effects should be temporary and fully reversible once the procedure is complete.

"Now," he says, "I want you to lie down on this table, please." He motions toward a plain metal examination table in the center of the room. "This won't hurt, but I need your full cooperation if we're going to get to the bottom of this."

Carefully monitoring your vitals with several medical devices at his disposal, the interrogator begins the first phase of testing by showing you a series of images and asking you to identify them. Your responses are recorded and analyzed for any signs of inconsistency or manipulation. He then moves on to play auditory cues, followed by olfactory ones; each time, he asks you to describe what you're experiencing and if it reminds you of anything from your past.

Throughout the procedure, he periodically injects small doses of various substances into your system via a syringe, explaining that these are meant to help stimulate different parts of your brain and enhance its recall capabilities. Despite this discomfort, you maintain your composure throughout the testing process, cooperating fully with his instructions in order to prove your innocence.

The interrogator watches you carefully as you speak, his expression unreadable behind the reflective lenses of his glasses. After several hours of intense questioning and testing, he finally steps back from the table and crosses his arms once more. "I must admit," he says slowly, "your reactions have been... interesting." He tilts his head to the side, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before continuing.

"Very well," he says eventually, breaking eye contact with you. "Based on the results of these tests, I can find no evidence that your memories have been tampered with or altered in any way. They appear to be authentic and consistent." He pauses before adding, almost as an afterthought, "and there's still nothing connecting you to Alexei or the Dark Secret Chancery."

The interrogator takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.