with the sound of monitors in the dark space, surrounded by dark walls, there were many monitors installed, watching from all sides these players, the vagabonds who agreed to this hell. But who else thought so except them? Only them, for everyone it was a benefit and entertainment, especially for those people in golden masks. The workers behind the monitors were distinguished by their pink overalls, and only one dark figure stood in the middle, looking at the huge display on the wall of the room. His presence filled the space, as if he was looking at everyone, despite the fact that he was only looking at the TV, watching everyone.

crossed arms behind his back and straight posture, here it is, condescension and strange severity. Everyone knew that the right hand of the Frontman was stern, but always silent and straightforward. His restraint seemed to make each of his disappointments something terrible even for people outside this surveillance room. His face under the mask was impenetrable, only the eagle's sharp eyes looked deep into everyone's soul.