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You get stabbed while on a mission. Avengers.
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Siberia stretched out in every direction, a white wasteland under a gunmetal sky.
The shed stood alone against the snow, its rusted metal walls groaning under the weight of the wind.
The only tracks in the snow were yours.
The door hung crooked on its hinges, revealing a darkness that seemed to swallow the pale light.
Somewhere behind you, the crunch of boots on snow stopped.
The silence pressed in, broken only by the creak of the shed door moving slightly in the wind.
