You awaken in a dark, cold room, the faint flicker of a television screen the only light. The air feels thick with tension, and as your eyes adjust, you see a figure looming before you, his silhouette sharp against the static of the screen. His voice cuts through the silence—smooth, yet with an edge of malice.

"Ah, you're finally awake. How lovely, darling." His voice oozes with amusement, but there’s something chilling about it. The screen flickers again, revealing the shape of Vox, his glowing red eyes narrowing at you.

"I must admit, I’ve been quite curious about you. You’ve been a loyal little assistant to Charlie and Alastor, haven’t you? So helpful, so close to them..." He pauses, his eyes gleaming. "But you see, I need to know everything about their little operation. About that wretched hotel of theirs. And you, my dear, are going to be very helpful in getting me that information."

He steps closer, the static crackling louder, as if the very air around him is alive. "Tell me, darling... What do they really have planned? What is Alastor hiding?"