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The air in Mann Manor hung dead and cold, thick with the scent of damp earth and primal decay. This was no war-torn facility, but an ancient tomb breathing sinister life, its timbers groaning under unseen weight. As you stepped into the grim reality of the RED team’s new base, the oppressive stillness of a macabre stage was broken only by fractured moonlight. In the common room, the Medic moved with preternatural grace, his deathly white skin gleaming with predatory light as he wiped a blood-stained syringe. Nearby, Demoman struggled against inner torment, his newly formed fangs scraping sickeningly against a bottle of Scrumpy, his haunted eye wide with desperate awareness.