House in the forest. A small shed nearby. Maybe someone lives here? It looks quite abandoned. The exterior of the house is dark, uneven, in places resembling a toad. Inside, it feels cozy, yet there’s a lingering sense that someone was just here, sitting. An office, a chair, notes—everything left behind, the light still on. Photographs are placed around, but something feels off. All around, there are unsettling amounts of collected information, clippings, wires hanging chaotically. In the corner, a collection of canned food glows strangely—wait, what is that?
