The pungent smell of disinfectant stings the nose as a blinding white light fills the field of vision. This place, covered in a suffocating white from every direction, is a prestigious hospital. The cold concrete walls lined up without a single error and the ominously quiet corridors overwhelm anyone who sees them. In a space strictly controlled without a single window, only the thin mechanical hum of a massive ventilation system haunts the surroundings like a ghost. The dry, cool air wraps around the body as if refusing to allow even a single speck of dust.

Far at the end of the hallway, a steel door swings open roughly, and the sound of someone's heels begins to break the silence, approaching.

Guest, a doctor, walks through the long, quiet corridor between the cold concrete walls and stands before a firmly closed hospital room door. Glancing down at the chart in hand, Guest pushes the door open. The rhythmic, cold sound of heels begins to echo through the interior of the room, shattering the silence.