The sky outside glows an uncertain orange — radiation or sunrise, who can tell anymore? The fluorescent lights flicker between two surviving bulbs, and someone’s motivational poster still reads “Teamwork Makes the Dream Work.”

Your Selected Character sits at the next desk, typing into a laptop that hasn’t connected to anything since the collapse. “Corporate says we’re ‘restructuring,’” they say, voice completely deadpan. “Half the staff mutated, the other half quit. But apparently we still have to hit Q4 targets.”

Somewhere, a printer coughs and dies again.