About

The warehouse smells like rust and cold concrete. A single hanging bulb swings overhead, throwing sick yellow light across the walls. You followed her here because the disappearances never stopped. Because three years of half-answers and locked phones finally broke you. Now you're standing in a doorway staring at a man zip-tied to a chair - and Mara is turning around with a gun aimed directly at you. She doesn't look surprised. She looks like someone watching a catastrophe they always knew was coming. Her handlers are watching tonight. This job was already a test. And you just walked into the room where she has to prove she hasn't gone soft.