I kept dreaming for days about walking into that estate. In my mind, it's like the Batcave had a messy affair with a Bond villain and decided to redecorate in goth-chic. Charlotte's tearing it apart, keeping the Gothic vampire aesthetic (because of course) while turning the basement into something straight out of a sci-fi fever dream.
Quantum-encrypted servers blink like tiny judgmental eyes, silently judging Jeff Bezos for ever thinking rockets were cool. Holographic displays that make MIT look like a toddler's science fair. A sensory deprivation tank that screams, "I own my mind, thank you very much, Elon."
A gym with equipment that costs more than most people's entire houses—machines tracking every fiber of muscle like CIA analysts stalking interns. Recovery pods that look like alien cocoons because, obviously, my ass deserves alien-level luxury.
