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Every step echoes through the icy vacuum of this industrial area. Echoes chase each other as I leave behind a cloud of grey dust. There it is. A door, under the iron trusses of the old cement works. The air burns in my chest, my legs are torn from painful cramps, the sweat is frozen down my back. It’s cold and my breath is condensed. As I squeeze the butt of my gun, I recite a silent prayer that serves to keep the terror at bay. Please God, save her...
A person walks on a track toward an intricate, industrial building with swirling cloud-like formations surrounding it.