This is the rule of Lomp 3 12: you cannot speak. You cannot record. You cannot leave for exactly 60 minutes. All you can do is turn the dials.
The building doesn’t have a name. In fact, if you blink while walking down that rain-slicked cobblestone lane, you’ll miss it entirely. The door is unmarked, the buzzer is just a rusty button, and the stairwell smells of old paper and forgotten umbrellas. In Private With Lomp 3 12
What I can tell you is that the silence in that room isn’t empty. It’s a substance. It pressed against my eardrums like deep ocean water. My thoughts—usually a chaotic swarm of to-do lists and regrets—slowed to a crawl, then stopped entirely. This is the rule of Lomp 3 12: you cannot speak
Of course, my better judgment told me to ignore it. My curiosity, unfortunately, has never listened to reason. All you can do is turn the dials