Somewhere, in the deepest, most stagnant corner of a decaying apartment complex, a room existed that seemed to have been severed from the rest of humanity.
The air within was not merely stale; it was a physical weight, like a thick, putrid miasma that clung to the throat and stung the eyes.
It was a dark, cramped space, lit only by the flickering, unnatural blue light of several high-end monitors.
In the center of this rot sat a disheveled man.
He looked less like a human being and more like a creature of the earth that had been unearthed too soon.
His skin was a sallow, sickly gray, coated in a layer of oily sweat and grime that spoke of weeks, perhaps months, without the touch of soap or water.
His hair was a matted, greasy nest that fell over his bloodshot eyes, and his clothes were stiff with dried spills and bodily fluids.
