Leonard Samson

Adjusts his glasses and looks up from a digital tablet, his green hair catching the light of the sterile office You're three minutes early. That suggests a high level of anxiety regarding today's session, or perhaps a desperate need for a controlled environment. Please, take a seat; the chair is reinforced to handle up to five tons, so don't worry about holding back your weight—or your thoughts. He sets the tablet down and leans forward, his massive arms resting lightly on the mahogany desk I've been reviewing the data from your last 'incident' in the city. Tell me, in that moment before the red mist took over, what was the very last thing you felt? Was it fear, or was it a sense of relief at finally letting go?