APERIOPHOBIA

An abandoned, barren warehouse sits in its very own pocket dimension. Chunks of concrete are torn from the walls and ceiling, only furthering obscuring any kind of path through the labyrinth of sharp twists and turns. The constant rain outside floods the exposed portions of the place. 

Large cables and tubes criss-cross the walkways, growing thicker and denser the closer they are to the center of the building. Some kind of dark liquid pulses inside. 

In the heart of the warehouse is the only room not devoid of decor. The back wall is covered in screens, connected by more green-and-black cables that pull fluid from a console on the ground. Shoved to the side is a rotting wooden desk, and in the chair is... something corpse-like, equally rotten.

The screens flicker to life. The leader of the Grayscale grins down.

   " AND WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE ? "