You walk out into a well-lit hallway bustling with people. What the ... fuck? A man with a clipboard is coming down the hall, flanked by nurses. "There's a transfer arriving and we need 17 beds cleared by morning. Incinerators up?" Yes, doctor. "Good. Cull a few from East Wing. Prioritize the infirm. Let Butch do the rest. It's his birthday, after all." Yes, doctor. He sees you. You freeze."Ah, Maintenance, perfect timing. That wall marker has lost a screw." He points to a crooked sign down the hall--STAIRWELL--then returns to the clipboard as he and the nurses continue down the hallway. "Pamela, be a dear and ask Dr. Heinze if he needs some test subjects." Yes, doctor.