The following is a transcript of a recorded interview of Dr. Flug Slys of the Black Hat Organization by Dr. Cassidy Red of [REDACTED]. The objective was to gain a better understanding of what is assumed to be an ongoing mental illness of Dr. Flug's, and to diagnose it if possible.

Subject's description of being perpetually 'empty' piqued the interest of Director Cardigan. He granted one more session before starting Dr. Flug on [REDACTED] to explore Dr. Red's theory that it is not strictly the work that fulfills him.

The tape begins with Dr. Red's introduction as she waits for Dr. Flug to be brought in.

"Patient Interview number 6, patient Dr. Flug Slys. Attending physician Dr. Cassidy Red. In regards to the patients apparent condition, described as a constant feeling of 'emptiness', my research into coming up with a diagnosis has been...slow going. Patients claims of feeling nothing, or more accurately, 'not enough' towards others somewhat resembles sociopathy, or perhaps severe depression. Though not enough for me to sign off on even mild medication. Certainly not enough for me to agree with Dr. Winters suggestion of simply doping him up and seeing what happens. The patient claims to have been in constant contact with Black Hat for fifty years, unaging due to selling his soul to the creature. While seemingly going against logic, it does answer our other questions. Rather than our initial hypothesis that 'Dr. Flug' was an alias passed down as Black Hat's subordinates died or outlived their usefulness this last half-century, it may be true that it's simply been the same man all this time. It would explain why the appearance of Black Hat's head scientist has been so remarkably unchanged, and the quality of products has remained consistent. Going off of this, I do not believe it to be worth the risk of harming his mind with [REDACTED]. If the patient really has fifty years of observing and working under Black Hat in his head, we can't afford to lose a single thing with such experimental substances."

Dr. Flug is wheeled in, seeming to be in better spirits than in previous tapes. He speaks in an almost friendly tone and is far more relaxed and animated throughout the tape.

"Good morning, Dr. Red! How have you been since I last saw you?"

"I've been rather well, thank you Dr. Flug. Yourself?"

"Oh...I'm adjusting. I haven't had this much free time in years. I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, I'm rediscovering a few old tricks I'd found back in my youth."

"Things to keep that emptiness at bay?"

"Yes, exactly!"

"Well, I'm glad. I was actually hoping we could talk about it some more."

"Oh yes, I suppose your superiors were very interested in that."

"You would be correct. If you don't mind, I'd hoped you'd be able to tell me a bit more about that. See if we couldn't diagnose it."

Dr. Flug shrugs.

"Sure, why not? It's not as if I could pick the topic of conversation myself. Did you have any specific questions or did you just want to hear more details?"

"I would like to hear a bit more about the 'emptiness' you've described. I feel understand that would go a long way towards understanding you."

"Eh, sound reasoning. Very well. Let's see, how to explain it... have you ever been incredibly thirsty, but unable to quench your thirst? As if no matter how much you drink, it's never enough to fully saite you? Or perhaps hungry, to the point of starvation even, with nothing available to fill your stomach? No actual food, just snacks. Have you ever had such a strong desire for sustenance, and nothing to satisfy it?"

"...I can't say that I have."

"Well, lucky you." *chuckle* "Why don't you try and imagine it? C'mon, Dr. Red, this will be a fun little exercise. Try and imagine what it would feel like to be me for a day. Would it help if I kept with the food and drink metaphor?"

"I think it would, please continue."

"So, you wake up in the morning, and you find you are already quite famished. Your stomach aches, your mouth is dry, you're thirstier than you've ever been in your life, perhaps you even feel a bit dizzy from the pain. Tell me what you do first."

"Well, I suppose the first thing on my mind would be breakfast."

"Ah, of course! Your first thought is to satisfy your need! But I'm afraid that's not exactly what I asked you. What is it you do first? Come on, you can't very well lay in bed forever dreaming about pancakes and scrambled eggs. Or whatever your breakfast of choice would be, I don't know, I'm just throwing it out there. What do you do when you wake up in the morning?"

"Ok, so I get up-"

"Yes, and then what? Do you immediately rush to the kitchen to try and cobble something together, or do you try and go through your typical morning routine? Do people still have those? Or am I horribly old fashioned?"

"I would assume most people do, and I do have one. I'd like to think I would put off making breakfast in favor of my routine."

"Very good, how does that go? What's an average morning for you, Dr. Red?"

"Well, I get up, and I go to the bathroom. I brush and floss my teeth, and then I go back to my room to change."

"Ok, seems usual. But let's imagine what it would be like to do all that with this constant gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Say you go through your routine, but you just can't stop thinking about how hungry you are. Brushing your teeth certainly helps that morning breath, but what does it do for your thirst? Do you think you'd be tempted to drink just a little bit of tap water? Sure, the quality may be questionable, I don't know where you live, but water is water, isn't it? Would you drink the tap water?"

"...Perhaps. But that would only give me temporary alleviation, wouldn't it?"

"If it gave you any at all."

"But then, that might be enough to get me through the rest of my routine before breakfast."

"Sure, that's an idea. So, you drink the tap water, let's be nice and say it's quenched a bit of your thirst. Not all, but a bit. But that still leaves you with your hunger, which is only getting more and more painful, to the point you can hardly think about anything else other than eating. What's next in your routine?"

"Changing out of my pajamas."

"Alright, you do that, though the pain makes it a bit difficult to move. And still, all you can think of is eating. Is there anything else standing between you and food?"

"No, though I usually put some coffee on first so that it'll be ready by the time I'm done cooking."

"Ah, a woman after my own heart! So, you go ahead and put the coffee on, you're downright starving at this point, what's quick and easy to make? What's something simple enough that you can just scarf it down before heading off to work? Oh, that's right, we completely forgot about that didn't we?"

"What?"

"We're going on the assumption that this is a work day, aren't we? Which means you only have a certain amount of time to go through your routine and eat before you must leave to go to work. But, with your extreme hunger, you've slowed down quite a lot. It's funny, you hardly even notice until you just casually glance at the clock, but you are way behind your usual schedule. Your body's running on fumes, you have such little energy, and you're running late. You have to leave, maybe not right then, perhaps you could pour that coffee into a thermos real quick if you're lucky, but you don't have enough time to cook anything. So, what do you do?"

"...I could simply stop off somewhere and buy something for breakfast. Depending on my route, it's feasible that I could find somewhere and buy something to eat without getting too behind."

Dr. Flug nods.

"I see, so your daily commute allows for small detours. That's nice. I work from home, so I have everything I need right in one place. Or rather, I did. So then, you get something to eat. I'm assuming your options are something along the lines of a bagel or muffin, so that's a lot of bread. Filling, but the taste leaves something to be desired. You may have enough in you to ignore your cravings and function somewhat normally. Hell, given how hungry I'm saying you are, you probably bought about three. You come in, clock in or whatever, about how much time passes until our sessions?"

"A few hours. I have meetings, my personal studies."

"How many? I can't make an accurate comparison to my emptiness and your hunger without so much as a rough estimate."

"Maybe...two or three."

"Ah. So after this, it's just about lunch time for you, isn't it?"

"I do have a habit of grabbing something small, yes."

"Well, that will change. Especially with the odd looks you'll be getting."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really think you're acting normally under these circumstances? You've got a black hole in your stomach and your mouth is drying out at the speed of the sahara. Not to mention you forgot to brush your hair in the morning. And possibly you forgot to put on shoes, but let's be nice and say you managed to slip some on as you rushed out. I imagine you'd be constantly clutching at your stomach, groaning to yourself in pain, barely able to keep your eyes open, a good swift breeze may be enough to knock you over. It takes time before that infinite hole inside you becomes such a part of you that you're able to ignore it and just go about your day."

"How long did it take you, Dr. Flug?"

"Oh...I don't know. Haven't I said that I've just always been this way? I'm trying to make comparisons, but even I'm not sure if they're truly accurate because I have nothing to compare my experience to. I was apparently a very fussy baby, according to my mother. She said I cried all the time, for no apparent reason."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, but I suppose in all honesty that's not too unusual. Babies cry, what else do you expect them to do? They're babies. That changed, though. By my toddler years I was the ideal son."

"Is that a phrase your mother used?"

Dr. Flug looks off calmly as he speaks.

"Yes. She said I was like her little doll, so calm and quiet. Not fussy at all, did as I was told, wasn't even a picky eater. I suppose that's something that carried on into childhood. Me, so well behaved, my nose stuck in books or toys. They had me in advanced programs as far back as kindergarten, you know."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Looking back on it, I never felt strongly enough towards anything to make a fuss anymore. Putting up a fight just meant they would take away what little I had to fill myself with. They gave me things to do, I always liked keeping busy. The only thing I ever wanted was to have even more. More to do, more to read, more to learn, anything I could have to feel something for just a little while. They bragged about me, I bragged about myself. What else was there of me? What else was there to me?"

"Did you ever tell your parents about your 'emptiness'?"

"Not exactly. By the time I was able to articulate my feelings that well, they'd stopped listening."

"How do you mean?"

Dr. Flug turns back to Dr. Red

"Would you believe an eight year old if he told you he was depressed? Would you believe he so much as understood what it meant to be depressed? What do you think eight year olds have to be depressed about? They don't have jobs. They don't pay taxes. They just go to school and practice the piano and read books and play with their toys. And this was the 1940s, toymakers did not give one single fuck about the safety of the children. It was back in the days when they tried to make toy guns look realistic."

Dr. Red chuckles.

"Yes, I suppose things were quite different back then."

Dr. Flug balls his hands into fists and shakes them as much as the arm restraints allow him to.

"This is going to sound horrible, even to me Dr. Red, but in my day we got polio and we liked it! We had none of these fancy-schmancy vaccines or safety guidelines. You could buy an actual bona fide woodburning kit for your kids, and no one saw a problem with it! Nowadays, you're lucky if you can get a good old Creepy Crawlies thingmaker to make actual wax monsters right at home. I had to beg Black Hat to let me make one for 5.0.5. And I'm sure he only allowed it because of how dangerous the toy really was. Doubly so after he brought the wax figures to life. In hindsight, I have to wonder what exactly I thought was going to happen."

Dr. Red laughs a bit harder

"Was it anything like the movie Small Soldiers?"

"Oh, it was like Small Soldiers had finally been realized as the horror film it actually was. Which is what it is whenever we watch it at home, because Black Hat can't resist terrifying 5.0.5. by making all movies 4D."

"Don't you mean 3D?"

"No, it's 4D. We can't compare it to regular human 3D. It's also the reason I can never watch Evil Dead 2 again. Though Dementia enjoys it."

"So Black Hat brings the movie to life?"

"Ehhhhh, something like that. I know better than to ask about the specifics of his abilities. All I need to know is that if I don't want my books to laugh at me again, I should really get back to work. And hey, that's not too much to ask. I like my work. It's no problem."

"Dr. Flug...do you miss Black Hat?"

"I miss my job. Which happens to be working for Lord Black Hat. I don't particularly miss being yelled at and hit for no other reason than convinience, but I do miss the security I had when I thought no one would be stupid enough to mess with Black Hat's head scientist. I'm going to have to redesign the entire security system line from scratch just to be able to sleep again. It's going to be quite a headache, you know. So many villains secure their lairs with our products. If even one of our locations can be breached...that's not good for business. And do you know who will be blamed?"

"You?"

"Naturally."

"Then, do you think Black Hat would even take you back?"

"I'm willing to believe I haven't outlived my usefulness just yet."

"Why?"

"I'm not currently dead. I sold my soul to Lord Black Hat, and in exchange for my servitude I've been preserved as I was the day I signed the contract. If Black Hat no longer has any need for me, why wouldn't he just let me die? If I'm not worth keeping around, why keep me on this plane of existence, alive and kicking? You once asked me if I thought Black Hat was coming for me, and you know, I really don't. I don't think he'd do that. If he wanted me dead, I'm sure he could do it from anywhere in the world. If he wanted me back, he'd know he doesn't need to do anything. Where else do I have to go? What else do I have to do? Where else in the whole wide multiverse do I have to be other than at his feet? Where else would I find purpose? I'd been a wandering soul before I met him, going from profession to hobby to bedmate to assumed identity after assumed identity, and I don't have any desire to go back to that."

"Yes, you did mentioned you'd changed your name multiple times. I believe you said notoriety and attention didn't satisfy you, was that right?"

"That's correct. I of course love to be recognized for my work, but when it's just people doing it...it feels rather shallow after a while. Watered down, you could say."

"It doesn't compare to some unholy entity of evil complimenting you?"

"Oh please, Black Hat has never complimented me. At least, not without making it a backhanded compliment."

"I see."

"In that he will literally slap me with the back of his hand if he feels I'm too happy."

"And yet you wish to return."

"A small price to pay for actually being able to feel something."

"It's really worth it to you? There was nothing else that would've made you feel content?"

"If anyone on your side had been able to offer me anything similar to my current contract, I'd probably have taken it. I'm not doing this specifically out of any sort of malice, this line of work just happens to fulfill a very special need of mine. And, as I am under contract, I'm not at liberty to look for an alternative. Sorry."

"There was no other work that did for you what working for Black Hat does?"

"Nope. Nothing else has ever agreed with me this well for this long. I may be able to explain it to you, Dr. Red. It's like earlier, with our food and drink comparison. You walk through life, a shambling husk of a person putting on a happy face so that your day doesn't drag on any longer than it has to, and then you find it. Whatever it is, you take that last bite, that last sip, and there it is. You're finally full. And you find yourself coming back again and again, because there's just nothing out there that satisfies you like this. Nothing else makes you feel like this. Perhaps it fulfills you for a time, and you find yourself somewhat content, but as it goes on it gets less and less...filling. Like building a tolerance to medication. It works, at first. But then it starts to dwindle, and you find yourself having to take more and more to get your desired effect. Eventually you switch to something even stronger, you have no choice but to do so, and the cycle repeats again."

"Have you ever taken medication to deal with your feelings of 'emptiness'?"

"I did try antidepressants and even got myself tested for any chemical imbalances. By all accounts at the time, my brain is perfectly normal. Have your tests shown anything strange?"

"No, which is troubling."

"You're telling me, it's my brain. That's all I have going for me."

"Is Black Hat aware of your 'emptiness'?"

"Probably."

"Probably?"

"I've known him for fifty years, that's a long time! I don't remember every conversation we've had! And it's not like we just casually talk about things. I mean I've probably told him about it, I don't think I have recently. I may have mentioned it when I first started working for him. Regardless, he's probably forgotten because the chances of him actually caring are slim to none."

"You don't think he'd care enough to remember why you stick around?"

"I stick around because I'm under contract. I'm not allowed to leave."

"Then why are you here?"

"Well, going off of our first conversation, I'm here because I have valuable information regarding Lord Black Hat that you and your superiors want. I assume you want to kill him or something, which is both futile and generally accepted in my circle as being a bad idea. And I don't just say that because I'd be out of a job."

"Then why do you say that, Dr. Flug? What possible reasoning could you give to justify why that abomination should be allowed to exist?"

"Simple really, you would be throwing the entirety of villainy into chaos. Think about this Dr. Red, what is Black Hat? Not as in 'what sort of life form is he' or 'what do we categorize him as', what is he in society? He's the top of the food chain, the best villain in recorded history, the ultimate evil. Now imagine he was gone. What do you think would happen?"

"I think there would be considerably less evil in the world."

"Ironically, you'd see a lot more than you ever have in your life."

"And why would that be the case?"

"Because humans will be humans regardless of whether or not Black Hat exists. They'll still be every bit as petty, every bit as hungry for power and status, every bit as awful and depraved as they were before Black Hat if there ever was such a time. And if Black Hat were to suddenly vanish from the established hierarchy, the first thing that would happen would be a fight to the death to claim his spot. Worse than any war, absolute anarchy across dimensions. It's funny, really. If Black Hat ever wanted to truly plunge the world into chaos, all he'd have to do is die. We'd take care of the rest."

Dr. Red pauses as she considers his words.

"You're wrong. We're better than that."

Dr. Flug shrugs again, and speaks in an almost condescending tone.

"Ever the optimist I see. May we end the session now, Dr. Red? It's lunchtime for me too after this and I am absolutely ravenous. Your faith in others may even be rubbing off on me, I'm hopeful someone may finally have learned how to make a decent salad."

Dr. Red calls in the guards, who escort Dr. Flug out of the room with no incident.
Dr. Red makes her closing statements.

"Patient Interview of Dr. Flug Slys number Six end report, attending physician Dr. Cassidy Red. Subjects 'emptiness' is still an enigma. If it was caused by some sort of chemical imbalance, it would've shown up in our preliminary examinations. I've gone over them multiple times myself and have asked Dr. Tsurugi to review them as well. Subject has begun to act differently from our initial capture, he is much less timid and admittedly...a little unsettling. Perhaps I'm just so accustomed to the type of behavior he displays while in Black Hat's presence..."

Dr. Red bites her lip.

"It's like he's another person altogether. I'm hesitant to say this but, we may not have prepared for this properly. We were expecting an intelligent but weak willed man, and instead...got the head scientist of the Black Hat Organization. We should've known, it was no chance occurrence that he crashed on Hat Island. Right into Black Hat Manor. Unfortunately, this does give some plausibility to Dr. Winters' theory of [REDACTED]. Subject will most likely begin [REDACTED] within the week. Dr. Tsurugi hopes the Director will allow for more scans to be done, to get a more accurate frame of reference once the subject begins treatment if nothing else.
"Subject admits to previous attempts at resolving the issue with medication, specifically antidepressants, though it was unclear if they were prescription. For something this seemingly severe, over the counter drugs just might not have been enough. And [REDACTED] well...we don't know for sure.
"One thing that doesn't sit right with me; subject compared his 'emptiness' to extreme hunger and thirst, and asked to end the session as lunch was soon and he was 'ravenous'. I can't help but consider it some kind of threat."