Lucian stood on the desolate street, his gaze fixed on the crumbling House Number 6. Shattered windows and a door barely holding on painted a grim picture.
He leaned on his cane, readying his hand near the holster, steeling himself for any lurking threat. With a decisive kick, he shattered the already weakened door, a cloud of dust swirling around him.
As he stepped inside, the air thick with dust, he coughed, particles stinging his eyes. In the dimness, options unfolded: a door to the right, a staircase, and a descent to the basement. Each footstep seemed to amplify, adding to the unsettling atmosphere.
Anticipating danger, he focused his power, nails transformed, revolver poised.
Given the state of this place, it's likely someone's been here before, he mused, opening the door on his right.
A sudden creak behind him spun him around, revolver at the ready, but the shadows revealed no intruder.
