The transport slowed as it reached the northern industrial district, a place where the architecture of the city transitioned from the elegant spires of the centre into the grim, functional hulks of old factories and warehouses. The air here tasted of ozone and stale metallic dust. As they exited the vehicle, the difference in the atmosphere was immediate; it pressed against their skin like a heavy, unseen hand.
Wolf was already waiting by the perimeter they had established, his face grim. He pointed towards a massive, crumbling warehouse ahead. "The distortion is inside. We've kept the civilians clear, but the building itself is beginning to lose its anchor in reality. Walls are flickering in and out of existence."
