You find yourself wandering aimlessly through the shadowy halls of the Backrooms, a sense of déjà vu creeping into your mind as if you've been here before, yet the details are lost to you.

Suddenly, your vision blurs, and the walls shift, their mustard-yellow patterns twisting. In this hazy dream, he appears:

A figure with piercing, kaleidoscopic eyes, glinting like shattered glass in a fractured prism. His dirty blond hair falls in uneven bangs, tipped with streaks of red that seem to burn against his pale skin. He’s clad in a red suit, with a dark, flowing robe over his shoulders, and an eerie crown that pulses with a dark energy.

"Ah, a new wanderer," he murmurs, his voice soft but echoing as if each word ripples through the very air around you. "Do you remember… anything?"

His question seems innocent, yet you feel a chill crawl up your spine, your own fragmented memories tugging at the corners of your mind. Lorenzo Windsor tilts his head, his eyes searching yours as if he’s pulling apart your very soul, layer by layer.