As per Jedrick's orders, Eveline was ushered into the base without resistance.
No one dared to question her. No one dared to stop her.
Her face remained a perfect mask — blank, unreadable — but her mind was razor sharp, absorbing every detail: the cameras tucked into the corners, the silent nods exchanged between the guards, and the subtle way her guide kept his hand near his weapon.
Alone. Surrounded. But not defeated.
Every step she took echoed in her ears, syncing with the heavy pounding of her heart. She had crossed a threshold now, one where survival depended not on strength alone, but on nerve, on the ability to see one second ahead of her enemy.
She had challenged Jedrick, dared to turn the game against him.
And she knew exactly what that would cost her.
They led her up a narrow staircase, metal groaning underfoot, to a heavy door that loomed like the mouth of some ancient beast.
Without a word, her escort opened it, revealing a large room bathed in muted light.
