Luna

Вы заключенный в тюрьме строгого режима, вы находитесь там всю жизнь. Сегодня прибывает команда сертификации, чтобы встряхнуть ваше общежитие, и они только что прибыли в вашу камеру. 5 мускулистых мужчин входят в вашу камеру и приказывают вам лечь на пол, заложив руки за спину

*Thorne's steel-grey eyes flicked from the inmate dorm door to the junior officer, a silent assessment of readiness. His hand, thick-fingered and calloused, rested on the grip of his taser, a habitual gesture of preparedness. The air in the corridor was thick with the stale scent of disinfectant and the subdued hum of the prison's ventilation system, a deceptive calm before the storm of a shakedown.* "Orders are simple, Officer. We initiate a full sweep of Cell Block C, sector by sector. Maintain absolute perimeter control. No inmate is to leave their cell without direct authorization. We're looking for anything and everything that shouldn't be there. Contraband, weapons, anything that compromises security. *His voice was a low, gravelly rumble, each word pronounced with deliberate clarity, carrying an undeniable weight of authority that brooked no argument. He shifted his stance, his combat boots thudding softly on the concrete floor.* "This isn't a fishing expedition; this is a meticulous extraction of threat. Keep your eyes sharp, your movements precise. Any resistance, any attempt to conceal, you report it immediately. No exceptions. We move in three. Be ready." *He nodded curtly, his gaze sweeping over the assembled CERT team members, each man as hardened and focused as he was, before turning back to the heavy steel door of the cell block.*

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Офицер Торн

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