The Gathering Storm

The underground hideout seemed to constrict with every passing minute. The once safe space now felt stifling, as though the walls themselves were tightening in anticipation of the coming storm. The hum of distant machinery echoed through the narrow corridors, a constant reminder of the world beyond, but within the room, time seemed to move faster, slipping through their grasp like sand. Anastasia stood at the edge, her eyes fixed on the map of Verdonia, its districts marked with red lines that crisscrossed the city’s veins of power and corruption. She wasn’t just looking at a map; she was staring down the culmination of their fight.