CHAPTER 103: MINUTE 27 (THE LIVING RECORD)

The bunker reeked of ozone, cold metal, and the sour tang of Marco’s sweat—he hadn't moved from his chair in six hours. When I stepped inside, the air felt like it had been vacuumed out of the room. I slammed my bag onto the steel table with a crash that made Marco jump. My hand went straight for my...

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