Lost Life

As Marcus approached the industrial district, the night grew darker and colder, the sense of foreboding thickening with every step. The warehouse stood silent and imposing, its windows dark and foreboding. Marcus surveyed the building, noting the heavy security on the ground floor and the various obstacles that littered the perimeter.

He knew a direct approach would be foolish. Instead, he circled around to the back of the building, where a fire escape ladder led up to the roof. The metal was cold and slick under his fingers as he climbed, his movements swift and silent.

Reaching the roof, Marcus crouched low, listening for any signs of activity below. The warehouse was quiet, the faint hisses and pops of the steam-powered machinery the only sounds that broke the stillness. He moved to a large steam release valve, peering through the thick plumes of vapor. Below, the interior was a maze of machinery and shadows, the air filled with the constant hum of mechanical life.