For me, "Panic Room" was not a physical location, but a decision to flee, a retreat from the relentless siege of the outside world. I built these walls brick by brick for my own safety. Yet, within this self-imposed isolation, I was confronted by a bitter truth: the very walls I raised for protection have slowly transformed into a cage. The dominant redness of this space is not an external warning; it is the internal temperature of a mind running a fever within its own deadlock. In this silence, the instinct for "survival" awakens, not against an external foe, but as a primal struggle not to lose oneself in a space where we have consciously cut off the oxygen. This collection is a direct confrontation with the mind’s architecture of defense. It is a reminder that art remains the only vent, allowing us to breathe again within the closed rooms we have built for ourselves.