The basement was silent except for the soft hum of machinery and the rapid, rhythmic clatter of keys.
Fluorescent tubes flickered overhead, casting harsh, clinical light over the disorganized chaos—half-built tech sprawled across workbenches, schematics pinned to rusting walls, and empty cans of caffeine shots scattered across the floor.
Nano sat hunched forward, her eyes locked on the stream of code scrolling down her primary monitor. The screen's glow illuminated the light sheen of sweat glistening on her collarbone. She wore a thin, oversized white blouse that had slipped off one soft shoulder, the sheer fabric clinging to her damp skin in the damp underground air.
