The flames of the candles on the brass candelabra flickered constantly, making the already dim room even more eerie. Two slender black figures stood before the operating table as though conducting some mysterious Sacrifice Ritual. If one got close enough, one could even hear fragmented murmurs.
"I'm telling you, buddy, we can't keep doing this," one voice said. "At least let me see what it looks like when we successfully cure a patient."
"You think that only depends on me?" the other voice said. "This is a two-player game. The other person can't just stand there making snide remarks, can he?"
"When have I ever just stood there making snide remarks?"
"The problem is, you'd be better off if you did just stand there making snide remarks!"
"I think our top priority now is to cure at least one patient and prove this is an operating room, not a morgue."
"Our top priority is proving this is an operating room, not a cafeteria!"
"Didn't you eat too?"
"I operated until two in the morning, and all I had for dinner was a tuna sandwich."
Schiller stood with one hand on his hip and the other pressed against the beak of his mask. Then he said, "All right, it's too early to be arguing. This game can't just have us repeatedly treating patients. There must be other mechanics, so we need to hurry through the first stage."
Strange sighed as well and said, "Let's make three rules. When the next patient arrives, we'll do everything we can to save them and make sure nothing goes wrong. All right?"
Schiller nodded, accepting the agreement.
He pulled the lever again, and this time, two more copper coins dropped out. Schiller pocketed them, but what came out next was not a patient, but a