Jack stumbled up the wooden staircase while clutching his head. A metal door stood in his path, but a simple thought and flick of his eyes manipulated the door's lock, popping it open. Finding the headache developing into a terrible migraine, he resorted to pushing the door with his outstretched arm and forcing his way inside.
Compared to the smell of mould from the staircase, the room he entered was surprisingly fresh and clean. A grand oak desk dominated the far side of the room, with a leather chair fit for a king behind it. Fine art pieces covered the various walls of the room. Jack paid the lavish decorations no heed as he levitated straight toward the desk. Not even bothering to walk around it, he used his Phantom Form on his legs as he passed right over the enormous oak desk. Unceremoniously, Jack collapsed into the leather chair and closed his eyes.
