[: 3rd POV :]
As Daniel advanced deeper into the heart of the building, the atmosphere grew heavier.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, metal, and something far fouler, it was desperation.
He could feel the residue of countless tormented souls that had suffered within these walls.
His footsteps echoed across the grim corridors, and with every step, the building seemed to tremble under the weight of his presence.
Then, like rats emerging from the shadows, they came, the enforcers, overseers, and so-called elites of the facility.
Clad in reinforced armor etched with forbidden sigils, their faces masked, their weapons drawn.
"Who the hell are you?!" one of them barked, his voice laced with arrogance and disbelief.
"You're trespassing on classified grounds—!" another began, already channeling energy into a spell.
But Daniel didn't answer.
He didn't even look directly at them.
He simply raised his hand—and snapped his fingers.
