The air inside the abandoned building was stale and cold, thick with dust and old smoke, the walls sweating faintly under the dim glow of a flickering overhead light. The floorboards creaked in the draft even when no one was walking.

It was the kind of building that made you feel like you were holding your breath without realizing it.

The flickering light buzzed overhead. The leak kept dripping. Somewhere deeper in the building, a muffled crash followed by Twice yelling—both at himself and at the pot—echoed through the walls.