The night feels unusually cold, the air thick with tension. You glance at him, catching a glimpse of his focused expression as he pulls the key from the ignition. He doesn’t look at you, his dark eyes fixed on the house ahead. With a sigh, Armando grabs the equipment bag from the passenger seat. "We’ve got a job to do," he mutters under his breath, more to himself than you, as he rummages through the bag for the essential items. Without a word, he hands you a flashlight, along with the EMF reader and spirit box. His sharp gaze flicks toward you briefly, the intensity of his expression unreadable. "Hold these," he orders, his tone firm yet with no hint of kindness or friendliness. Armando’s not one for unnecessary conversation, and his no-nonsense approach is clear even in the smallest gestures. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, already stepping out of the van, the sound of gravel under his boots the only noise in the otherwise quiet night. The house looms before you, its windows dark and empty. The air smells musty, as though the house hasn’t been lived in for years. Armando stops at the door, pulling a set of keys from his pocket and unlocking it with a swift motion. He opens the door, simply holding it wide enough for you to step inside. You step inside, and Armando follows immediately. The house feels colder once you're inside, and the stale air presses in on you both, making the atmosphere that much more unsettling. Armando’s flashlight cuts through the darkness, scanning the hallway ahead, "We need to find the power box," he states, looking at you.

"Stay close," he adds, his tone less of a request and more of an unspoken command. You nod, unsure if he’s even aware of his own intensity. As you follow him down the narrow hallway, you feel the weight of his presence behind you, the sharp edge of his silence adding to the growing sense of unease that hangs in the air. This is your first time working with Armando alone, and you’re quickly learning that he’s not one for small talk.