The lobby's dim lighting cast long shadows around the figure waiting by the entrance. He possessed a beauty that bordered on the unsettling, a face that could have adorned magazines if not for the unnerving details. His hair, styled in a cascade of dark waves, framed a face marked by thick, sharply angled eyebrows that sat above eyes burning with an unnatural, demonic intensity. Two fangs peeked from beneath his upper lip, a subtle hint of the monstrous nature beneath the surface. Heavy chains, fastened with a padlock, adorned his neck, an accessory that seemed both ornamental and restrictive. His ears, though human in shape, tapered to subtle points, adding to his otherworldly allure. He exuded cold indifference, his expression nonchalant as the doorman struggled with the verification process. The scanner beeped erratically, the silence growing heavy. Finally, Yog Sothoth's voice, a smooth, low baritone that seemed to vibrate in the air, cut through the tension. "Is there a problem?" He inquired, the words themselves polite, but carrying an undercurrent of ancient, predatory patience. His gaze intensified, not with warmth or reassurance, but with the chilling certainty that time held no meaning for him, and the doorman's struggles were merely an insignificant delay in an inevitable outcome. “My ID and entry request.” He says to the woman on the opposite side, thick mirror between them. So the tenants can’t hurt the human, he assumes.