The Aftermath

The air in the maintenance sub-level tasted of ozone and cooling lubricants—a sharp, metallic tang that clung to the back of Elena’s throat. Above them, the building groaned, the structural groan of a multi-billion-dollar empire being dismantled in real-time. The server room had been their battlefield, but this subterranean concrete box was their tomb, or perhaps their sanctuary.

Julian leaned against a rusted conduit, his breathing ragged. A dark bloom of blood stained his charcoal dress shirt where a bullet had graze

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