The Guardian Wing, an anonymous building on the left side of the Circle, a monotonous and dull succession of large polygons forgotten in a sea of dust.
In the poorly lit hall, a lone Guardian sits besides a large table surrounded by a few foldable plastic chairs, his torso is bent forward, as he tries to garner some clues from the images cycling over the old flat screen in front of him. His nose twitches under a pair of glasses; on his left, a steaming cup of tea and an ashtray brimming with cigarette butts. The man has seen better days.
The room is spartanly furnished, bare, decluttered. On the floor, a camping mattress amidst a few piles of alphabetically ordered books; on a stove a boiling teapot, in the right corner, a pristine cupboard.
The images were burnt in his cortex. Yet, he couldn't help it, he pressed replay again.
Nemo Cayce Nebula Curiosity Eurydice Stray