Commander Anton.
The tunnel beneath the Lower City was unlike any Anton had seen in his years of patrolling the filth-ridden depths. The walls were smooth, lined with embedded lights that still pulsed softly, casting a faint sterile glow across the corridor. The air was different here—cleaner, fresher, and strangely sterile.
It was quiet—too quiet for a city that normally throbbed with leaking pipes and the hum of broken machines, and almost eerily so, save for the sound of their footsteps echoing off the metal walls.
His gloved hands tightened around his rifle, fingers brushing against the cool metal. Anton didn’t glance back at Elite Tern, knowing the silent figure would be right behind him, moving with unnerving stealth. The white mask that obscured Tern’s face made him seem almos
