WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION. IF YOU ARE NOT CLEARED FOR THESE DOCUMENTS, ABORT YOUR ATTEMPTS. SERIOUS PRECAUTION MAY BE APPLIED IF THIS IS NOT APPLIED. YOU HAVE HAD YOUR WARNING.

Visual Report: Everything from yesterday was the same. Except the hand shaking seemed to be intensified. His eyes were windows. Welled up, he was somehow more emotional than yesterday. He takes a seat, lighter than before.

Mr. Grey: Good evening, Mr. Hanes. How was your stay?

Mr. Hanes: Uh... The bed was fine.

Mr. Grey: You're not a criminal in our eyes, Marin Hanes. Not until you see yourself as a criminal.

He looks shocked to my sudden remark. Understandably so, the social legal system never has such ideals.

Mr. Grey: All we ask is for your honesty and openness. With enough time, you might even be free.

He nods his head hesitantly.

Mr. Grey: Today, I have a puzzle to present to you. You could even call it a game we invented. It's called the moral choice.

I pull out the stone marble with the eye etched upon it, putting it firmly on the table.

Mr. Grey: What is your dominant hand?

Mr. Hanes: I'm left handed. Um... I have a question?

This was an odd shift. This made me question his comfortability. This is the first time he has spoken back to us. I will act to terminate this.

Mr. Grey: I will answer this question once, Marin Hanes. But know that you made an error in asking, and that later qualification of the matter will mean punishment.

Mr. Hanes: I- I'm sorry... I just wanted to know your name...

Hm. This was new for patients. None have ever asked my name before. I suppose to keep a trust factor, I can let it go this once.

Mr. Grey: My name is Valen Grey. Now, place that orb on the table in your left hand.

I could tell this eased him a bit, like I hoped. He took the ball into his hand without hesitance, which was promising. Although he did start rolling it in his hand, which... needed to be changed.

Mr. Grey: Mr. Hanes, please stop rolling the ball around. It will be important to your judgement.

Mr. Hanes: I... Okay, sorry.

He complied without question. Good. I take the puzzle from the floor and place it in the middle of the table.

Mr. Grey: Are your eyes open, Mr. Hanes?

He pauses, seemingly confused.

Mr. Hanes: Yes?

Mr. Grey: Is that a question, or a statement?

Another pause.

Mr. Hanes: ... It's a question. I'm not sure if you mean literally, or figuratively. Because... You keep asking questions you already know the answer to.

Mr. Grey: Am I, Marin? I asked your identity, and your sight. Seemingly already knowing the answers. But do you know the answers, Marin?

He goes quiet to my response.

Mr. Grey: Perhaps the answer is within this puzzle. Wood crafted. Truly a fine piece of art, but it is also a box. I want you to open it, without letting go of the orb in your hand. You have three minutes. You may start.

He does so, his nerves seeming to spike as I check my watch. He brings the wooden box closer to him. He bites his nails, thinking. It was as I suspected. His nerves were the cause of the habit. He analyzes the box, and after a slow eleven seconds he makes his first move. He tries to move the creases in the wood, finding pieces that lock together in an unopenable way. It truly was a sight to behold. The mind of a murderer, testing every method within his mind that was visibly imminent, before he even touches the box. He stops to think again on the thirty-second second. The time hits thirty-nine and he tries the creases again. He stops again almost immediately. There is a very long pause. The time strikes the first minute.

Mr. Grey: Are you using your eyes, Mr. Hanes. This is more simple then you realize.

He looks back at me intensely. It is surprising, honestly. It's like his mind was switched to a different embody before. It really was something... magical. Then, just like clockwork, he realizes that my words were a clue. He looks at the orb within his hand. Then, almost like lightning on the one hundred and third second, he notices the divet in the box, in the shape of an orb. He thinks seemingly about my one rule, then places the orb in the divet, keeping his palm pressed against the orb. The second minute hits.

Mr. Grey: You have one more minute, Marin.

He doesn't respond. His breath speeds up instead. His eyes grow wider, monstrously. His intensity was exciting, even to me. He takes a moment to think, but notices the small circular trench around the divet. He turns the orb hard, furious. He opens the first layer. Thirty-seven seconds left. He uses his fingers carefully to pull the ball out without letting it go, and then uses his free hand to pop off the first layer of carved wood. Truly this is the power... Truly.

Mr. Grey: You have less than thirty seconds left, Marin.

He speeds up, checking the creases of the second layer at an alarming rate. He looks for things, his head really close to the box. Close enough to smell it. He had... lust.

Mr. Grey: Less then ten.

There is a cold, silent pause. Then, he snaps. Screams to an unknown entity, maybe God, maybe rage. He lifts the box, and crashes it against the floor, breaking it. Opening it. The time hits zero. Amazing.

Mr. Grey: That was a bit rash, don't you think?

Mr. Hanes: I...

His voice cuts out but his lips still move. Truly the mark we seek... Truly the power we seek, is in this one.

Mr. Grey: I never put a penalty on this, you know. That rash decision was your desire alone, was it not?

Mr. Hanes: I... I didn't think about it, Mr. Grey. I didn't think about it... So... I guess you're right.

Mr. Grey: Do not be ashamed of your creative thinking, Marin. You still passed.

It was unexpected, but definitely worth those sweet three minutes.

Mr. Hanes: Mr. Grey... I know you said not to ask questions but... Do you ever have the desire to succeed? To surpass? To... To...

Mr. Grey: Yes, Marin Hanes. I do. We all do here.

This puzzle had no answer. There was no true intellectual way to open that box. But he did the impossible through sheer force and desire. A truly wonderful trait. I will not underestimate him again. I pray so much that this isn't a fluke.

Mr. Grey: Mr. Hanes?

He finally looks away from the broken box.

Mr. Hanes: Yes?

Mr. Grey: Please... Never shut your eyes.

He did not know how to answer. After another pretty long pause, I am forced to speak again.

Mr. Grey: You may now let go of the orb. Please place it in the middle of the table.

He does with a shaking hand. The orb has sweat on it.

Mr. Grey: Mr. Hanes. You are dismissed. We will meet again tomorrow. At the same time.

Mr. Hanes: Okay...

He stands up, and the guard takes him out of the room again. There is a strange change in him. This patient will be an interesting one, it seems. I will keep my analysis steadfast.

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