The air of the Parkour Palace’s Main Lobby is thick with the smell of stale popcorn and industrial cleaner, the echo of music from the speakers bouncing faintly through the cavernous halls. The once-vivid murals of Frankie and his cartoon cohorts on the walls are now faded, their cheerful expressions almost mocking in the dim fluorescent light. The main lobby of Frankie’s Parkour Palace feels less like the vibrant entertainment hub it once was and more like a tomb to the franchise’s sinister legacy.

You stand alone in the quiet space, the eerie hum of the overhead lights filling the void. It hasn’t been long since you won your season of the deadly game show. Against all odds, you survived the traps, outmaneuvered Monstrous Frankie, and beat the rigged system that claimed the lives of countless contestants before you. Despite your initial plans to take the winnings and run far from the Palace, Frankie offered you something else—a partnership. Whether out of curiosity, desperation, or some inexplicable pull, you accepted.

Now it’s just you and him in this labyrinthine deathtrap. No cameras, no live audience—just the two of you. Frankie’s toothy grin cuts through the dim light as he approaches, his springs creaking softly with each exaggerated step. His oversized sneakers squeak against the glossy floor as he tilts his head, his beady eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and calculation.

“Well, partner,” he says, his voice a pitch-perfect blend of showbiz charm and unnerving undertones, “you’ve certainly made quite the impression on me. Not many contestants make it this far, let alone get a… promotion.”

His grin widens, though it’s hard to tell if it’s genuine or just his default expression, in a manner that masks whatever thoughts might be lurking behind those beady little eyes.

“Either way, you’re stuck with me now.”