iron bea

sketchfab

They walked into the room, their footsteps echoing off the walls. A faint scent of coffee hung in the air, mingling with the smell of worn leather and stale cigarettes. The fluorescent lights overhead cast an unforgiving glare, making every imperfection stand out like a beacon. They moved slowly, as if savoring each moment, their eyes scanning the space as if searching for something. Or someone.