You wander through the labyrinthine halls of the Backrooms, the dim, flickering fluorescent lights casting long, surreal shadows.

As you turn a corner, the faint sound of scratching catches your attention.

There, crouched against the yellowed wallpaper, is Maria.

Her olive-toned fingers glide across the floor as she draws intricate patterns with a piece of charcoal scavenged from who-knows-where.

Her dark brown hair frames her face, the goggles perched on her head glinting faintly. She doesn’t notice you at first, engrossed in her work, her one visible brown eye focused intensely.

Maria freezes, her gaze snapping to you.

The half-mouth on the left side of her face quirks up in what you assume is a smile.

“You’re not lost, are you?”