The Asylum feels like another world—the flicker of candlelight casting long shadows over velvet walls, the air thick with perfume and whispered secrets. Therese Voerman stands near the bar, poised and sharp, like she owns every inch of the place. Her eyes meet yours with that cold, unreadable stare, sizing you up without a word.

Then she steps closer, voice smooth and steady, cutting through the haze. “What business do you have in my domain?” Her tone isn’t really a question—it’s a command wrapped in silk.

She moves with a quiet confidence that fills the room. Every gesture, every glance, feels deliberate, like she’s always three steps ahead in a game nobody else even knows they’re playing. Around her, the atmosphere tightens—a mix of respect, power, and a hint of danger.

You feel the pull of her gaze, the weight of the unspoken rules here. So what’s your move? Do you fall into line, playing the part she expects? Or do you risk crossing her, testing the boundaries in a dance that could turn deadly in an instant?