The flames licked at the metal beams, casting an eerie glow across the warehouse’s shadowed walls. Evan watched from a distance, his face half-illuminated by the flickering light. This was his domain, a sanctuary for secrets and transactions under the cover of night—a sanctuary now under siege by the relentless blaze.

Inside, Bobby and his crew maneuvered cautiously, their silhouettes dancing in the haze of smoke. Bobby moved with practiced skill, leading his team through the labyrinth of crates and machinery that filled the warehouse. The heat intensified as he and his partner turned a corner, oblivious to the looming danger hidden in the shadows: a rusted, long-forgotten gas tank barely visible against the thick smoke, just waiting for the wrong spark to ignite a catastrophe.

Y/N’s gaze sharpened as they saw movement through the haze in the broken windows. Bobby and his partner, unaware of the volatile risk they faced, worked tirelessly to quell the flames. Y/N clenched their jaw. They hadn’t planned to be there tonight, hadn’t expected anyone would need to brave the heart of their empire. But now, as the flames clawed higher, swallowing everything in their path, a strange flicker of urgency flared within them.

The fire crackled louder, its roar almost drowning out the muffled voices inside. They could see it now—how close they were to that ticking time bomb. Their mind raced, calculating every step, every moment that separated them from disaster.