The air inside the mansion was thick with tension. The distant sounds of explosions and the occasional crack of gunfire only heightened the feeling of being in a pressure cooker. Daniel sat at the main console, his fingers dancing over the keyboard as he calibrated the last of the traps.
"Perimeter recalibrated," he murmured, his voice low but steady. He glanced at one of the monitors, watching the shifting silhouettes of the growing mob outside. "They're organizing faster than I expected."
Across the room, Claire gripped a steel bar taken from one of the reinforced barriers, her muscles flexing as she tested its durability. With a sharp grunt, she bent the bar into a horseshoe, her strength on full display. The sound of metal groaning under her grip echoed in the room.
Daniel looked up, a flicker of admiration crossing his face. "You're not human," he said, half-joking.
