When he walked up to the lab, he was largely calm and composed. Practice made perfect, it seemed. He almost had the look and sound of his other self down. Even adjusting to the "magna blades" was going well.

He hesitated at the door, hand reaching out towards the chime. He paused before pushing it. It was now or never. And claiming that he wasn't feeling well and heading back to bed wasn't an option when he was trying to avoid a doctor.