The entire Dominion Sanctum was quiet in the late night.
The sea winds brushed against the walls of the estate, carrying with them the faint scent of salt and flowers.
The moon was high, silver light spilling across the rooftops, casting shadows that stretched and swayed like dark sentinels.
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Somewhere underground of the Dominion Sanctum, Arthur, with his hands in his pockets, was walking along a corridor that led to a private vault that loomed ahead.
Each of his footsteps reverberated loudly against the steel floor, echoing through the cold walls and ceiling.
As he continued to walk along the corridor, the lights overhead flickered on in sequence, casting an eerie pale glow.
The lights were the sterile brilliance of advanced luminance strips embedded in the ceiling,smooth, sleek, and almost clinical.
The light revealed seamless silver panels along the wall. The air was filled with a subtle scent of oil and sterilized steel.
