The morning sun filtered through the Haven's windows, the breakfast table littered with empty plates—scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, their smoky aroma lingering.
Kael, in a creased t-shirt and jeans, led Freya, Rhea, and Lila to the fifth empty room in the Haven's creaky maze.
The space was stark, its walls bare like the villains' cells, with only a sagging bed in one corner, a faint mildew scent clinging to the air, and a portable projector humming on a table, its lens aimed at a cracked wall.
Freya sat neatly on the bed's edge, her posture crisp, her icy blue bodysuit shimmering with frost-like patterns, its high collar framing her neck, a lightweight white cape catching the projector's glow.
Lila mirrored her, sitting primly, her loose gown swishing, her glasses glinting, her collar off, her face focused.
Rhea lounged, legs sprawled, her orange and black bodysuit pulsing with ember-like flares, its sharp lines accentuating her relaxed slouch, a grin tugging at her lips.
