Berry Sycamore, known in Morphantasia as Hemlock, stood hunched over his workbench in the dim, cluttered confines of his makeshift lab—a large, creaky shack hidden behind his family's house. The lab was a chaotic jumble of beakers, test tubes, ancient tomes, and peculiar devices he had cobbled together over the years. The air inside was thick with the scent of chemicals, herbs, and something faintly metallic, a mixture that would have made anyone else gag but that Berry found oddly comforting.