A New Foundation

The maintenance sub-level smelled of ozone, stagnant water, and the metallic tang of blood. Elena leaned against a concrete pillar, her breathing shallow, the silk of her blazer ruined by a jagged tear at the shoulder. Beside her, Julian Thorne was a study in controlled collapse. He kept his left arm pressed tightly against his side, a dark, spreading stain blooming across his white dress shirt where the graze had torn through.

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