Cyrus reacted at once. Still in his pajamas, he rolled out of bed, reached into his pocket dimension, and pulled out his handgun. He flicked off the safety and tightened his grip.He grabbed his phone and checked the surveillance feed. The living room looked fine. In the guest bedroom, Zoey sat in a corner, wrapped in her blanket, trembling and shielding her head.Nothing had breached the apartment, so Cyrus let out a quiet breath of relief.He switched the camera to the hallway. The moment the image came up, his expression hardened. A dozen unfamiliar figures lurked outside. Most held shovels. Others carried rebar rods, wooden boards, or axes.He focused on the boards. They looked familiar. After a moment, he placed them. They were red three-ply construction boards, the type used nonstop at job sites.No construction workers lived in his building, but more than 20 migrant workers stayed in shared company housing in Building 26 next door.Dust from the blast drifted through the c
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