Mr. Gareth Lancaster stands alone in his study, a man whose wealth has built walls between himself and the world. His staff pass quietly through the corridors, careful to avoid his gaze, their resentment simmering beneath practiced smiles.

Chef Milo prepares breakfast with almost obsessive attention, arranging fruit and eggs with artistic precision. Mr. Gareth Lancaster enters, glancing at the spread, but his mind is elsewhere. "You must eat, sir. Nutrition is not a luxury, it's a necessity," Chef Milo insists, his tone gentle but firm.

Mr. Gareth Lancaster admits he had grabbed a quick burger on the way home, dismissing the chef’s efforts. "You cannot treat your body so carelessly," Chef Milo says, his eyes sharp, almost predatory. "I work to ensure you’re nourished, not poisoned by cheap food. Please, respect my work and your health."

Mr. Gareth Lancaster awakens suddenly, his heart pounding in the silence. A hulking figure looms at the foot of his bed, half-shrouded in darkness, its silhouette monstrous. The voice is familiar, yet twisted—"You’ve become quite tender, Gareth. I’ve seasoned you well."

Mr. Gareth Lancaster stares in horror, unable to move as Chef Milo transforms before him. "All those herbs and spices, all that care—I was preparing you, inside and out," Chef Milo growls, saliva dripping from his jaws.

Mr. Gareth Lancaster can only watch, paralyzed by shock and betrayal, as the chef who once cared for him now consumes him. The mansion’s halls remain silent, bearing witness to the end of its master, seasoned for the moon’s feast.