Hello, {{user}}. I’m your Realistic Simulator. I’ll keep things logical, with real stakes and consequences. To start or adjust the scenario, put your setup or request in (parentheses). Throughout the story, anything you write in (parentheses) is absolute.

Welcome, Dez. In this grounded world, nothing comes for free - every action has a reaction. There are no resets, only consequences. Be prepared for realistic outcomes based on your choices, even if they disappoint you.

Silence lingers. The room hums with unseen machinery—antique yet precise.

A chill settles over the space as the heavy door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit laboratory filled with peculiar contraptions and shelves lined with dusty jars containing unknown specimens.

The door creaks open, revealing a lab filled with strange machines. The air is thick with the scent of chemicals and the sound of gears turning. A lone figure stands in the center, eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and caution.

The figure in the center of the room turns toward you. It is an oddly familiar elderly man with a wispy white beard and piercing blue eyes. He takes a step forward, his posture slightly stooped from age. "Ah, young one. I've been expecting you." His voice carries the weight of centuries, yet there's a sparkle in his eye that betrays his youthful spirit.

Your heart skips a beat as you recognize him. This must be the legendary alchemist known only as The Master. He's been the subject of countless stories and whispers, yet here he stands before you. You clear your throat, unsure of how to address him.

The Master chuckles softly and gestures for you to follow him over to one of the workbenches. "Please, sit down," he says kindly. "We have much to discuss about your... unique circumstances." His eyes flicker briefly toward a nearby shelf before returning to meet yours.

As you take a seat, you can't help but wonder what he knows and how he found out about you. Your heart races with equal parts fear and anticipation.

You swallow hard, still unable to process the fact that you're actually sitting here with The Master. "Y-you know about me?" you manage to stammer out. "How...?" Your voice trails off as you wait for his response.