Five Miles Street Emerald Hotel.
Inside a certain suite.
The ember of tobacco flickered starkly in the dim light.
The wiry man's bare back was slick with cold sweat as he mechanically extinguished the cigarette butt in the ash-filled ceramic dish.
His gaze fixed intently on the phone on the table.
The twilight leaking through the blinds sliced the room like a razor, illuminating the large cube standing in the corner.
The outline wrapped in layers of industrial tape undulated subtly, and faint rustling sounds occasionally emanated from the black film akin to a shroud, interspersed with noises resembling insects gnawing on wood.
Finally...
As he waited anxiously.
The phone finally rang.
"..."
Even though he was merely answering a call, the man was very happy and respectful.
"Yes, we are ready. Eighteen in total, all starved for three days, now they're at their peak!!"
"..."
"The elder is ready as well, this divine descent operation will not fail!!"
"..."
