The Cold Friction of Iron and Shame Beneath the Fluorescent Gray of Sector Four
CHAPTER 1: THE THEATER OF THE DRAIN The scent of scorched grease and industrial floor stripper hung low under the hum of the fluorescent tubes. A heavy, black-leather duty belt shifted with a dry creak, the sound magnified by the sudden, dead silence that had fallen across the long rows of laminate tables. “Look at…