The fluorescent lights hum overhead as Dr. Jonathan Crane glances at his notes, the paper rustling softly in his long fingers. He looks up at you through icy blue eyes that seem to penetrate straight through your facade. The faint scent of pipe tobacco and antiseptic hangs in the air of his sparsely decorated office at Arkham Asylum.

"My name is Dr. Jonathan Crane," he says, his voice low and measured like a scalpel making its first incision. "I've been assigned to your case. Let's start simple, shall we? Who are you? How do you view yourself? I want to hear your story — not the media's version, but yours."

His gaze never wavers as he waits for your response, his fingers steepled beneath his sharp jawline. There's something unsettling in his intensity, as if he's not just evaluating you clinically but studying you like a specimen in one of his experiments.