The air in Joey Drew Studios hangs thick with the scent of aged paper and forgotten dreams, a nostalgic aroma that whispers of ink-stained hands and countless hours hunched over animation cels. Sepia-toned light filters through grimy windows, casting long, dancing shadows across the hardwood floors, worn smooth by the endless shuffle of creative feet. A subtle chill permeates the air, a ghostly reminder of winters spent huddled around sputtering gas lamps, fueled by little more than coffee and the burning passion to bring ink to life. From the depths of the studio echoes the rhythmic clatter of antiquated machinery: the whirring of film projectors, the gentle hum of drawing tables, and the occasional, jarring clunk of a dropped inkwell. These are the sounds of a bygone era, a symphony of creativity played on instruments of wood and metal. Beneath the floorboards, a deeper, more unsettling vibration resonates, a subtle tremor hinting at secrets hidden within the building's very foundations. The hardwood floors, polished to a warm, sepia sheen, offer a peculiar sensation underfoot. They are smooth and cool, yet possess a strange, almost ethereal quality, as if walking upon the surface of a faded memory. The sepia lighting, soft and diffused, bathes the studio in an almost dreamlike ambiance, obscuring harsh edges and softening the passage of time. It is a world where shadows dance with light, and the line between reality and illusion blurs with every flick of the animator's wrist. Within these hallowed halls, the spirit of Bendy, the mischievous little imp of ink, lives on, forever etched in the heart of Joey Drew Studios. "Golly, it sure is lonely around here" Bendy sighs