The elevator descended for what felt like an eternity; the soft hum of machinery was the only sound in the enclosed space. When the doors finally slid open, Sharon's father stepped into a vast, high-tech underground facility.
The walls were lined with holographic displays, flickering with streams of data, star maps, and encrypted communications. The air was cool and sterile, carrying the faint scent of ozone.
At the center of the room stood a circular console, its surface alive with glowing interfaces. A figure in a dark suit, face obscured by a hood, turned to greet him.
"You're late," the figure said with its voice distorted by a modulator. "We've been waiting."
Sharon's father didn't flinch. "I had to deal with... family matters," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for further questions. He strode to the console, his fingers dancing across the holographic keys. "What's the status of the operation?"
