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The sensation was hauntingly familiar—the same oppressive weight she had felt when she was first dragged into this abyss.

Chloe Bishop struck the metal wall of the elevator with her flashlight again. Thud. This time, there was no second sound. The air remained dead.

Xavier Grayson watched her with the detached curiosity of a scientist observing a frantic bird. "The elevator is moving, Chloe