He pulled a lever, and a hiss filled the room as water sprayed onto the ledger, soaking the ink and smearing the numbers. The fire suppression system roared, filling the space with a deafening spray. The black-suited men burst through the door, shouting orders, their weapons glinting in the sudden flood of water.

The old textile mill had been abandoned for years, its towering smokestacks now rusted skeletons against the night sky. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the scent of stale oil. Maya’s flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing rows of broken looms and tangled wires.

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