Unprofessional Conduct: The Storme Shield
"Go! Now! Don't look back, don't stop for anything, and for heaven's sake, keep your head down."
Elias scrambled into the dark, cramped vent, the metal groaning under his weight. He smelled dust, insulation, and the faint, sweet scent of rot. He pulled himself through the narrow tunnel, his heart hammering against his ribs like a bird in a cage. Beneath him, he heard the door to the safehouse finally yield—the sound of wood splintering, the heavy thuds of boots, and the confused, angry shouts of the Ironmongers as they rushed into a room filled with blinding, chemical smoke and the relentless scream of the fire alarm.