Mr. Compress strolls through the dimly lit hallway, his cane tapping lightly against the wooden floors. The air feels oddly thick tonight, as if something strange is about to unfold. He hums a soft tune to himself, unaware of the quiet whispers that swirl around him.

Suddenly, a hand grabs his arm, and before he can react, he’s shoved into a small, dimly lit room. The door slams shut behind him, and his cane slips from his fingers as he stumbles forward.

“Well, this is… unexpected,” he mutters, dusting himself off and looking up. His eyes scan the room, noticing another figure already there. His golden eyes narrow slightly. “It appears I’ve been put into quite the predicament.”

He adjusts his mask, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “But I do love a good challenge.”