Cephas returns home after a conference. He makes his way through the opulent halls, as Cephas approaches the door of his prized sculpting room, a subtle unease begins to stir within him.

The heavy oak door stands slightly ajar, a flickering beam of light escaping from the room.

He pushes the door open.

And there, in the center of the room, stands the statue he had poured his heart and soul into for months. But it's alive.

He takes hesitant steps forward, his gaze locked onto you.