My footsteps echoed softly on the metal floor of Sector Nine’s corridor, a sound nearly swallowed by the monotonous hum of the oxygen pumps. The dull blue light from the emergency lamps reflected off the damp steel walls, creating a suffocating, claustrophobic atmosphere. In the distance, a low-pressure alarm wailed lazily—a warning tone that seemed to mourn the impending destruction of Arkea.
"Juri, status perimeter," I whispered, my eyes scanning every dark corner ahead of me.
"Heat signatures detected at the end of the corridor, sir. Four personnel. One of them matches a biometric profile you know very well," Juri’s voice crackled slightly due to residual EMP interference.
"Marcos," I muttered.
I rounded the final corner and froze. Ten meters ahead, right in front of the double door
