The kind of situation I was in right now was a little… difficult, to say the least. With Neon huddled beside me, I was standing inside a well-maintained room lit with a dull golden light—it wasn't extremely bright, but enough to brighten up the whole room.
In front of me, at a distance of about ten steps, was a large wooden office table. Its dark oak surface was still smooth and unblemished, save for the slight dusting of paper corners and ink smudges that came with daily use. It was clear that the table was relatively new and had not been used for long.
There were neatly stacked papers all over the table, some clipped together and others only half-read, with their corners curling up a little.
