It’s been a while since he’s been to the morgue and as the strong, pungent smell of formaldehyde attacks his nose, he remembers vividly the first time his old Master had brought him here, back when he was still a young, naïve, teenage apprentice to “observe, with your own eyes, the miraculous inner structures of the human body!” and even more distinctly, the countless numbers of times he would clamber for a bin to throw up in or run desperately out the door, gagging, and he feels some pity in his heart for the guard he sees cowering in a corner near the heavy, metal door.