Dias held the flashlight and walked along the dim underground passage, his footsteps echoing dully on the concrete floor.
The air was filled with a dry, moldy smell mixed with the scent of rusted metal and insulated rubber.
Occasional exposed pipes and hanging cable bundles overhead extended into the dark depths like thick blood vessels. The ventilation ducts emitted a low hum, like the breathing of a giant underground beast.
This was the most inconspicuous branch line within the labyrinthine underground works beneath Capitol Hill.
Security personnel would conduct routine inspections here each month to prevent cable aging, loose connections, or pests chewing through wires, ensuring the reliable operation of the entire underground facility.
A fire door at the end of the passage suddenly revealed an abandoned cart parked in front of it.
Dias lifted the crumpled waterproof cloth on the cart as if discovering a 'treasure' left by a scavenger.
