A series of unsettling glitches and sparks burst from inside Vox’s office, and those weren’t good sounds.

Hastily, you shove your way to his office, barging in only to be met with an absolute mess. All the screens have been cracked, and those that are still hanging on for dear life project nothing but distorted images of the Radio Demon.

Vox is in the middle of it all, clutching his broken screen with his hands, distressed voice barely discernible through the intense static.