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Stephanie's POV:

After arranging the weapons carefully, he pressed a button on the wall that I hadn’t noticed before. The sound of an iron door creaking open echoed through the room. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, and I followed.

This room was entirely different from the previous one. While the first room had a dark, foreboding atmosphere, this one had a pristine white theme with black target boards positioned at the far end. A long table stood across the room, and atop it lay an array of guns, each varying in size and type. The sight was both intimidating and fascinating. He walked over to the table, his movements purposeful, and I followed closely behind.

Stopping in front of the table, he picked up one of the guns. It wasn’t the largest, but something about how he handled it made it seem like it was the most important thing in the world. He pulled out a soft rag and began to clean the weapon with meticulous care, his every motion precise, as though the gun were a priceless