The morgue lay hidden beneath the stone arches of the Imperial Infirmary, its entrance marked by a subtle yet pervasive chill. As the heavy door swung open, Caym stepped into the dimly lit chamber, Haru, an imposing guardian knight, and Cynthia, one of Dr. Felix's daughters, flanking him on either side. The air within carried a distinct scent – a sterile mixture of disinfectant and the unmistakable odor of cold bodies.
Caym's keen eyes surveyed the room, taking in the cold, metallic surfaces, the stainless steel tables, and the imposing steel cabinets lining the walls.
The medical assistants, clad in sterile white coats, gloves, and masks, stood on the sides, their heads respectfully bowed as the trio passed. The hushed rustle of their movements echoed through the somber space.
