"The preparation for the torture chamber is fully complete," Zhea whispered, her fingers grazing the edge of the metallic restraint kit with an eerie, clinical fascination as they descended into the subterranean depths.
Rafael did not respond immediately, his silver eyes fixed on the heavy steel door of the newly constructed holding cell at the end of the reinforced corridor.
The air inside the underground basement facility grew noticeably colder, carrying the sterile scent of polished concrete, ozone, and impending torment.
"Open the cell," Rafael commanded, his voice holding an unyielding authority that vibrated off the damp stone walls.
Zhea stepped forward with fluid grace, tapping a rapid sequence into the biometric keypad beside the reinforced titanium door.
The heavy lock
