Vanessa, Lilith, Kelly, and Ann stepped through the rusted metal doorway, their boots echoing on the cracked concrete as they entered the old warehouse.
The air inside was heavy. Thick. Reeking of smoke and burnt oil. A low haze hung just below the ceiling, making everything slightly hazy, like the room was permanently trapped in an old, yellowed memory.
Ann wrinkled her nose immediately, raising a hand to cover her face. "Ugh," she muttered. "This place smells like it hasn't been cleaned since the war."
Kelly glanced sideways and smirked. "It probably hasn't."
Vanessa didn't say a word, but her jaw was clenched. She didn't like the smell either. Her face had that tight, controlled expression she wore whenever she was trying not to gag.
Only Lilith and Kelly seemed unbothered. Neither of them smoked, but both of them had spent years in the kind of circles where men chain-smoked through every conversation and ashtrays were a part of the décor. This wasn't new to them.
