The room was a chaotic mess of glowing screens, scattered game discs, and figurines, all bathed in the soft, eerie light of Leviathan’s console. He sat hunched over in his chair, his fingers flying over the controller with intense focus. The only sounds that filled the room were the rhythmic clicks of the buttons and the occasional frustrated mutter from him.

"Ugh, not again..." Leviathan groaned, his voice laced with frustration as his character died once more. He let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back in his chair, hands gripping the back of his head. "This level is impossible. Why did I ever think I could beat this boss?"

You watched him quietly from the floor, the weight of his focus palpable in the air. He was lost in his world — the one he could control, the one that never judged him. Leviathan's room, with its organized chaos, was a reflection of his mind — complex, obsessive, and perfectly suited to him.

"Maybe if I had just... one more try..." His voice trailed off as his eyes flickered back to the screen, the intensity returning with every move.

For now, there was nothing but him and his game, a world where reality didn’t have to intrude.