My heart leaped into my throat as the main security feed on the reception desk started to flicker violently.

Arthur looked at the screen, a sudden, desperate grin spreading across his face.

The overhead lights in the lobby flickered once, twice, and then plunged us into complete and utter darkness.

A deep, mechanical rumble vibrated through the soles of my shoes.

The emergency lights flickered on, painting the sleek glass walls of the lobby in a pale, amber glow.

Arthur was already halfway to the heavy glass revolving doors.

But two of Nathaniel’s security guards stood there, their arms crossed.

They did not move an inch.

Arthur stopped, his leather shoes squeaking on the polished floor.

“The backup generators are very efficient, Arthur,” Nathaniel said, his voice calm in the dim light.

He did not even look at the ceiling.

His eyes remained fixed on Arthur.

“You didn’t think a simple power cut would open those doors, did you?” Nathaniel asked.

Arthur turned around slowly.

His face was slick with sweat, reflecting the amber light.

“I was merely checking the perimeter,” Arthur said, his voice trembling.