Max knew they had to move quickly. The city's labyrinthine streets could be both an advantage and a trap, and right now, they needed every edge they could get. The dawn's gray light filtered through the smog, casting the buildings in harsh relief as if the city itself were a beast waking from a troubled sleep.
The safe house Elena mentioned was a tenement in the heart of the old industrial district. It had seen better days—decades ago. Now, it stood as a monument to neglect, its crumbling facade a mask for the secrets it held.
"We need to keep our heads down," Max muttered as they approached the building. "If they've got a mole, we don't know who we can trust."
Vivian nodded, her eyes scanning their surroundings with the wariness of a hunted animal. "We stick to the shadows. Move fast, move quiet."
