The cool evening air brushed softly against Sofia's face as she stepped out of the Hellhounds' base. The moment the heavy steel door shut behind her, the noise of the place, the laughter, the gun clicks, the smell of smoke, it all faded away. The entire surrounding was filled with silence, only being interrupted by the occasional sound of crickets in the nearby shrubs.
Outside, the street was quiet, lit only by a few flickering bulbs hanging from old poles. The air smelled of damp metal and dust. Sofia tightened her coat around herself and let out a small breath, her mind still replaying the meeting she just had with Brack and his men.
The Hellhounds were unlike any group she had ever seen. Every one of them carried a kind of energy that screamed danger. But Brack… Brack was something else entirely. The way he commanded the room without saying much reminded her of the kind of people you don't mess with, the ones who had seen too much and lived through worse.
