The others reached for the chem lights they carried, squeezing them to activate the glow before tossing them into the warehouse. The space was gradually illuminated, the cool air a stark contrast to the oppressive heat above. The chill was a welcome relief, the stillness of the room almost eerie in its tranquillity.
Xiang Yu stepped forward, his smirk still in place as he surveyed the space. "Well?" he said, his tone light and teasing. "What do you think?"
As Han Xin stepped further inside, the echoes of his boots hitting the concrete floor faded into an eerie stillness. The cool air clung to the space, heavy with the scent of dust and metal. Old rusted pipes lined the walls, twisting like skeletal fingers through the shadows.
But what drew his attention most was the scattered crates stacked neatly. Their surfaces were dusted with age, yet they looked untouched, almost pristine. Each crate bore stencilled letters and numbers, a testament to meticulous planning put into this.
