Chapter 18 : What Happened Six Years Ago

The night air was thick with the stench of salt and rust. The abandoned dockyard stretched before them like a graveyard of forgotten industry—crumbling warehouses, shattered windows, and the eerie creak of metal shifting in the wind. The moon hung low, casting long, distorted shadows across the wet pavement.

Elena crouched in the stolen van, her fingers digging into the edge of the door as she peered through a crack in the rusted frame. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat hammering against her ribs like a war drum. Ahead, Damien walked alone, his strides steady and unhurried, yet each movement radiated barely restrained violence.

The warehouse loomed before him, its rusted doors ajar, as if the building itself were inhaling sharply, waiting for blood to be spilled.

Inside, the air was damp and heavy with the scent of oil and decay. Flickering industrial lights barely pierced the darkness, casting sickly yellow pools on the cracked concrete floor. Wooden crates and rusted barrels