The growl was something else entirely.
It was a deep, guttural rumble that reverberated through the concrete beneath their feet, settling into their bones like the ominous tremor of an impending earthquake. The emergency lights in the corridor flickered, from the sheer concussive force of each heavy footfall.
"What was that?" Rosa said, her usual flirty confidence evaporating, replaced by a tense, wide-eyed intensity. She gripped her plasma daggers, but they suddenly felt more like toothpicks in her hands.
Clara was already typing away, her face ghostly in the glow of her tablet. "I-I can't get a clear signature. The mass is... it's off the charts. It's messing with the sensors."
"Then use your eyes," Scarlett snapped, her twin shortswords already drawn. "It's coming from the service tunnel. The one we just sealed up."
