The iron door of the modest, dimly lit quarters in the lower corridor clicked shut, sealing the room in a state of suspended, heavy gloom. The only illumination was the faint, bruised violet light filtering through the high-altitude ventilation shaft, casting long, wavering shadows across the stone floor.
Robert leaned his back against the cold, unyielding iron of the door, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. He closed his eyes tightly, his breath hitching as he tried to steady the violent rhythm of his pulse. He was just an assistant, a man of calculations and quiet observation, never meant to navigate the razor's edge between life and death in the den of a monster.
He turned his head slowly and surveyed the scene within the small room.
