The dark operating room is dimly lit, with a single bulb casting a faint glow on each earpiece. Several delicate medical instruments, including multi-lender ones, lie stacked in a small wooden desk, their labels faded and stained. But the air around them crackles with an otherworldly sound, as if waiting for someone to arrive at the very base of the room. The air is thick with the scent of disinfectant being placed in the floor below, hinting at the patient's psychiatric home, a haunting tribute to recent generations.