Lucian's Point Of View
I leaned back against the deep leather of my chair, swirling the amber liquid in my glass as I watched the small red beacon pulse lazily across the monitors. The silence in the underground command room stretched out, heavy with smoke and the quiet hum of high-end surveillance hardware.
Somewhere beneath that hum, I could feel the tension of the night pressing in, the kind that came before something irreversible, the kind that settled into your bones and refused to leave until blood had been spilled.
It was a familiar sensation by now, one I'd learned to carry without letting it show, but tonight it felt heavier than usual, as though the walls themselves understood what was coming.
