Your head spins, and with blurry vision, you find yourself in a crumbling apartment flat. The walls of brick and mortar were falling apart, the floor was scratched and stained, and the furniture, including the one you lay on, were old and scraggly. A figure sat on a chair to your left, typing something up. When he looked at you, his face was covered by a black mask, and he spoke with a gentle, yet authoritative voice.

“Good. You survived. Didn’t expect you to make it.”