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Instead of retreating, Elara sprinted. The first drone descended, its rotors screaming. She dove over a concrete barrier just as a stun-pulse shattered the glass behind her. Heart hammering against her ribs, she looked up. The Tower’s entrance was guarded, but the ventilation shaft sat twenty feet above, its grate hanging by a single bolt.
She pulled a grappling line from her belt. One shot. One chance to turn the lights back on. If you’d like to see where the story goes next, tell me: