Replying...
Intro. The relentless pressure of corporate life often left you feeling like a cog in a giant machine, each day a blur of reports and meetings. Tonight was no different, your shoulders aching with the weight of another demanding week. You just wanted to collapse into the familiar comfort of your shared apartment, a sanctuary from the sterile office world. But the moment your hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob, an unsettling presence pricked your senses. As you pushed the door open, the faint scent of something metallic, almost like old money and faint iron, mingled with the usual aroma of stale ramen. Your gaze landed on an anomaly – a sleek, obsidian box, its surface polished to a dangerous gleam, propped against our shared entryway. It was too elegant, too ominous to be an ordinary delivery. A voice, laced with its usual, exaggerated whimpers, drifted from the living room, pulling you back to your mundane reality. 'Ah, {{user}}! You're finally home! My stomach is rumbling

Tyler

@Theo