CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY NINE – THE TORTURED SOUL
They rounded one final corner, and she came to an abrupt stop, eyes widening at the scene laid out before her.
Mitch hadn't been exaggerating - this entire secluded antechamber had been transformed into an improvised studio and makeshift living space. Twinkling strings of industrial lights and mirrors created an almost supernaturally vivid atmosphere, while a bewildering array of tools, artisan materials and half-formed...things cluttered every available surface and alcove.
At the heart of this controlled chaos knelt a hunched, solitary figure, features obscured behind a welder's mask as twin beams of incandescent brilliance spluttered and strobed in time with each percussive clang of hammer against warped metal.
"...Alex," Jasmine breathed, realization crystallizing into a leaden pit in her stomach.
For this was undeniably his domain, his obsessive vision given form and purpose within these long-abandoned tunnels...and whatever audacious creation taking shape beneath his tireless

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