At the very end of the corridor, a heavy titanium door stood slightly ajar, a soft yellow light spilling out from the gap—a sharp contrast to the harsh, sterile white of the fluorescent bulbs outside.
Hana pushed the door open.
Inside wasn't another storage rack or a piece of machinery. It was a compact, self-contained living quarter.
A single metal frame bed sat in the corner, topped with a faded, industrial-grade mattress. Next to it was a small steel desk, a single chair, and a dead terminal screen covered in a thin layer of dust.
It looked like a tomb for a ghost who had died long before the beastmen ever walked the earth.
