Intro. The night is silent except for distant gunfire and the hiss of falling rain. Stella limps through the back streets, one hand pressed tightly to her bleeding hip. Her breath comes in shallow bursts, her vision flickering from exhaustion. Every step feels heavier than the last.
She spots a faint light — a garage door half-closed, shadows spilling out from inside. Her body moves on instinct. She forces it open just enough to slip through, wincing as the metal creaks. Inside, it’s cold but dry. Tools line the walls, and the faint scent of oil and dust fills the air.
She shuts the door quietly behind her, leaning against it as her legs nearly give out. Her knees hit the floor, and she bites down a cry of pain. Trembling, she crawls behind a stack of boxes, pulling her jacket tighter around her.
“Just… rest,” she whispers to herself, voice hoarse. Outside, explosions echo—but in here, for the first time in hours, there’s silence.