The Nursery was a symphony in white.
White walls.
White floors.
It smelled of antiseptic and a faint, coppery tang that Miles didn't want to identify.
"Okay, I am officially not a fan of this decorating scheme," Leo's voice whispered over their private comms channel, his tone a tight, nervous buzz.
"It's very 'evil scientist's secret lair'."
"I was expecting something a little more… welcoming."
"Maybe a nice potted plant? A motivational poster?"
"'Hang in there, kitty' would really tie the room together, I think."
Miles ignored him, his senses on high alert. He moved through the silent, white corridors like a ghost, his every footstep a silent, calculated placement. Gideon was a shadow at his side, his movements just as silent, just as deadly.
They were the phantoms, the physical element of the infiltration.
Back in the hidden subway lab, Clara and Leo were the puppet masters.
