The fluorescent lights of the Rhodes Island corridors hummed with a low, electric anxiety. Outside the reinforced glass, the wasteland of Terra was a bruised purple, choked by an approaching Catastrophe.
Doctor took off the headset. The silence of the room was heavier than the music, but the rhythm remained, etched into their pulse. They weren't just a memory yet. The fluorescent lights of the Rhodes Island corridors
Amiya stood by the viewport, her shadow long and sharp. "They’re coming, aren't they?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper over the beat. electric anxiety. Outside the reinforced glass