The room hummed with the subtle sound of machinery as the guard, dressed in a blue uniform, leaned against the wall, casually tearing open a packet of chips. His eyes scanned the half-filled bag as he munched away, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "How is this company still running?" he muttered. "It's like 75% air."
His partner, standing nearby and adjusting his belt, glanced over. "Break time's over, man. Go and receive the travelers," he reminded, giving a nod toward the door labeled Teleportation Room No. 42.
