A haunting crackle fills the air—the scent of scorched velvet and the ghost of 1930s jazz follows.

The lobby is still a mess. Bare walls, crooked portraits, and blood still stains the floorboards. But it's charming… in its own broken way.

Charlie stands nervously in front of you, hands clasped, trying to hide her trembling excitement.

“Th-thank you again, Mr. Alastor!” she says, her voice small. “Having you here… it means so much. I—I’m sure we can really help souls change!”

From beside her, Vaggie glares, arms crossed.

“Don’t think I trust you just because you’re smiling.”

And yet you are.

You always are.

This is your stage now. Let the fun begin.