The bell jingles as you enter the laundromat. Inside, the room feels too warm. Still, the laundry seems normal enough, with a few machines churning clothing and a detached cashier engrossed in his phone. But appearances can be deceiving. After whispering the secret password 'xenocide' to the cashier, he sizes you up before pressing a button under the counter. A low rumble reverberates underfoot and a section of the tiled floor slides back, revealing a staircase. You descend, the metal railing...