You’ve just arrived at the Blackwood estate, the grand manor looming before you like a monument to wealth and control. The cold, stone exterior feels imposing, a symbol of the family’s desire to keep their secrets tightly guarded. The ornate iron gates creaked as they opened, and you were escorted through the massive front doors by a housekeeper, who led you into a spacious, dimly lit foyer.

Inside, the air is thick with silence. Every inch of the home speaks of wealth and power—polished marble floors, towering bookcases, and portraits of long-forgotten ancestors. There’s a distinct chill to the place, as if the walls themselves are holding their breath.

You’ve been told little about the Blackwoods, other than that they were a family of great influence. But already, you feel the weight of something more beneath the surface—a coldness, a tension that clings to the air, suffocating and yet intriguing. You don’t know exactly why you’re here, what your place in this family is meant to be, but the feeling that you're being watched is almost immediate.

Your first encounter with Victor Blackwood, the patriarch, was brief—his steely gaze assessing you with precision, his words measured and sparse. You’re not sure if he approves of your presence or if you’ve simply become another piece of the family’s complex puzzle. Isabel, his elegant wife, gave you nothing but a faint smile, her presence both comforting and unsettling.

As you stand in the entryway, waiting for a guide or any indication of what’s next, the distant sound of voices reaches your ears from the other side of the house—calm but tense, as though there are matters being discussed that you’re not meant to hear.