Liam stood quietly in the center of the room, still trying to process everything he had just seen. The diagrams, the charts, the strange medical tools—it was all too surreal. This had once been his father's workspace, and now it looked more like the lair of someone obsessed with dissecting the human condition. It didn't match the man he remembered as a child.
Without saying much, Liam slowly walked to the far end of the room. There, against the back wall, was a long metal table, old and untouched, with a single chair in front of it. Something about it called to him. He pulled the chair back and sat down, the cold metal creaking under his weight. He leaned back, staring blankly across the room.
His hands idly roamed under the table—a habit born from boredom or maybe a subconscious curiosity. That's when he felt it. A small, smooth button. Hidden, flush with the underside of the metal table. His brows furrowed in confusion. What the hell?
Without much thought, he pressed it.
