Floor 109

A narrow service corridor on Floor 109 of Paradise Towers, its institutional green walls streaked with grime and peeling paint. The fluorescent strip lighting flickers intermittently, casting long shadows across scuffed linoleum tiles cracked along the seams. The air carries the stale stench of old machinery and faint ozone from distant cavernous levels below. Pipes clank softly behind the walls, their groans resonating through the hollow space. The space feels compressed under the weight of forgotten functions, every step echoing back without warmth or direction. This is where Mel and Pex stand momentarily before choosing to descend into deeper, more perilous floors.