A grim figure with glowing eyes holds a gun in a dark, burning room with a shattered window and door.

The room was drowned in darkness, painted in a deep, rich shade of dark blue. The walls seemed to have absorbed the night sky itself, now radiating a cold that creeps under your skin. Pale moonlight pours through the shattered window, spreading in a ghostly glow across the charred floorboards. Fire has consumed everything around. Beams collapsed from the ceiling burn, boards crack underfoot, and sparks soar upward, showering the space in a rain of flames. The fire greedily licks the corners of the room, turning it into a cage of living heat. There is no gentle candlelight here—only the chaos of fire and the cold breath of the blue darkness. And amid this chaos—there is a man. His figure emerges against the raging flames: tall, grim, as if carved from the darkness itself. In his hand, he holds a gun, aimed straight at you. His face is shrouded in half-light, but his eyes glint with a sinister chill, reflecting the same moonlight that stains the room. To the left, behind him, a door is visible. Heavy, massive, it stands out in this inferno with its dark silhouette. A thin sliver of blue slips through the gap between the frame, as if another world is hidden beyond. But the path to it is blocked—the man stands guard, and every step you take echoes in the crackle of the fire. The air is heavy, thick with smoke. Everything around creaks and collapses, and it feels as if, in a moment, the flames will consume the room entirely. Yet he does not move. He stands as if part of this See more