The front door creaked open, its hinges groaning under the weight of time. Joule stepped cautiously inside, the air thick with dust and memories.
He called out softly, "Neoma?" but the echo of his voice was the only response he received.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the broken windows, revealing a grand but dilapidated interior. The once-majestic mansion now bore the marks of neglect, its opulence faded but still palpable. Joule moved through the foyer, each step stirring up clouds of dust that danced in the thin beams of moonlight.
As he ventured further, he felt a presence behind him, a shadow moving in the periphery of his vision. Before he could react, he felt the cold, unmistakable pressure of a gun barrel against the back of his head. His breath caught in
