Emerald Hill, Meteor City…
In a very dark warehouse, Scott sat slumped in a cheap, squeaky swivel chair as his legs rested lazily on a massive black metal case.
His head tilted awkwardly to the side and saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth as thunderous snores echoed throughout the cavernous space.
The flickering overhead lights barely illuminated the countless black tarps and towering stacks of metal cases scattered across the floor, giving the place an oddly post-apocalyptic vibe.
Suddenly, the obnoxiously loud ringing of Scott's phone shattered the ominous silence.
It jolted him awake with a loud snort.
"Gah──!"
The chair spun wildly and the momentum launched Scott onto the cold, hard floor with a painful thud.
"Son of a—!"
He groaned and clutched the back of his head as he lay there for a moment to let the pain settle.
… ding! DING!
