Anya's blood pumped adrenaline, hot and fast. Sarah, pale and unconscious, lay on the gurney, the sterile lights of the abandoned medical bay casting sterile shadows around them. Ethan, ever the soldier, barked orders, directing their small team with practiced efficiency. Maya, her fingers a blur on the keypad, fought a silent war against the city's digital eyes, desperately seeking anonymity for their escape.
But victory felt fragile, a breath held against the wind. The Puppeteer's chilling words still hung in the air, a venomous promise of retribution. Anya knew this wasn't just about Sarah anymore. This was a declaration of war.
As sirens wailed in the distance, their frantic escape morphing into a desperate chase, Anya's mind raced. She needed answers, weapons, allies. The abandoned facility, once a haven, now felt like a tomb. It was time to venture into the heart of the beast, to confront the Puppeteer in his own lair.
