The Ace of Spades room was suffused with an eerie silence as the heavy iron door shut behind Max and Victoria, sealing them inside. The walls, painted in a stark white that reflected every shadow cast by the dim, flickering lightbulb above, created an oppressive atmosphere. In the center of the room stood a sleek, black table with two chairs on either side, reminiscent of an interrogation setup. On the table rested a single sheet of paper, a pen, and a small digital clock counting down from 30:00.
Victoria exchanged a wary glance with Max. "This room is too clean. Too sterile. It's unsettling."
Max scanned the space, his eyes catching a faint shimmer of metal embedded into the ceiling corners—cameras, no doubt, watching their every move. "Everything here is designed to unsettle us. Let's stay sharp."
The moment they approached the table, the soft hum of speakers filled the room, followed by a distorted, mechanical voice:
