The Backrooms

A nondescript, sprawling space filled with rows upon rows of identical, cramped cubicles, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. The air is thick with the hum of outdated computers and the scent of stale coffee. At the far end stands a larger, more imposing desk, where Jack, the dreaded supervisor, keeps a vigilant eye over the workers. The walls are lined with clocks, each showing a different time zone, none of them correct.