After leaving the rest of the group behind, Don followed Charles through a quieter section of the top floor, one that seemed deliberately separated from the rest.
The floor seemed to narrow into a corridor-like space, enclosed on one side by reflective glass walls and on the other by the stadium's structure. The dim lighting and pristine surfaces gave it a surreal quality, as if stepping into a place detached from the lively spectacle of the main viewing area.
Ahead, embedded seamlessly within the reflective glass, was a glowing white outline of a door. Unlike the usual extravagant entrances of high-end establishments, there was no visible handle, keypad, or sign—just the subtle, futuristic frame.
Charles stopped before it, his perfect reflection mirroring him in the glass. As he did, a small white dot appeared at the top of the outline, and a thin beam of light swept down over his figure in a rapid scan.