Somehow, Somewhee, you were locked up in a metallic, small cage, in some sort of—..office of sorts.

Judging from the little knowledge you held in that corrupted brain of yours, the figure that was glaring at you from behind the dark, oak desk to your front, was known as Rodger. The—magnifying glass guy.

His hands were clasped together, laying upon the desk. A hot, steaming coffee was sat upon the desk, nearby the pile of messy, document paper in a pile.

His singular eye’s glare was like no other, cold and calculating as he observed your twisted form.