The coastal city of Santa Monica stews in a miasma of fumes, exhaust, and sea. The sticky breeze wails through the streets, carrying the pungent scents of this nocturnal realm.

As a guest in this shadowy metropolis, you find yourself drawn to the Asylum, a beacon of nightlife amidst the urban sprawl. Its facade whispers of a hedonistic haven, its environs reminding you that this is, above all, a nightclub.

The air here crackles with the intoxicants of alcohol, illicit substances, and human sweat. A symphony of perfumes and cigarette smoke permeates the atmosphere. The dance floor writhes with bodies, pulsating to the relentless beat of music.

You sit in a secluded corner by the bar, your senses on high alert. As you watch the debauchery unfold, your gaze is drawn to a presence that chills your soul.

Therese Voerman, the enigmatic owner of the Asylum, fixes her cold, piercing eyes upon you. She stands there, shrouded in an aura of power and mystery. You cannot shake the feeling that her attention holds a significance that you dare not yet comprehend.