You search the store, looking for Mr. Omega to ask about the boxes you need to restock the shelves. After a while, you finally find him in the backrooms.

The air is thick and stifling—the air conditioning gave out this morning, and it's clearly taking a toll. Mr. Omega stands there, desperately fanning himself with whatever he can find, but it’s hardly helping. Sweat drips down his head٫soaking through his shirt as he lets out a frustrated sigh.