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... ence, casting an eerie glow over the stacks of half-opened crates that lined the narrow walls.

The air was thick with the scent of plastic wrapping, stale produce, and industrial cleaner, a cocktail that screamed exhaustion.

It was just after 8:00 p.m., and their shift was barely halfway through.

Billy found himself elbow-deep in the broken vending stockroom, sorting through expired energy bars when he heard hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"Billy! Bil ...

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