The entrance to the main research floor was a dark maw, a stark contrast to the pristine, star-lit atrium behind them. A clear cold seeped from the opening, carrying the sterile scent of a hospital mixed with the faint, coppery tang of old blood. The air was still, heavy, and silent in a way that felt unnatural, as if the very fabric of sound had been sucked out of the space.
Jin took the lead, his stun baton held loosely at his side. The dim light from his headlamp cut a nervous path into the oppressive darkness. The feeling was a low, persistent thrum at the base of his skull, a deep, gut-level feeling of wrongness, of a place that had been violated and left to fester.
"Stay tight," he murmured, his voice barely disturbing the silence. "Watch your footing."
