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Lucius Romano (2)

As Erik stepped into the completed wing of the hospital, the sterile smell of antiseptic washed over him, a stark contrast to the dusty construction site outside. 

The interior was a hive of activity, yet it lacked the technological sophistication one might expect.

The corridors echoed with the soft hum of conversation and the occasional beep of a monitor, but the usual hustle of modern machinery was conspicuously absent.

No vending machines stood in the corners, nor were there the typical clusters of high-tech equipment. 

Instead, anxious individuals filled the space, sitting on simple chairs lined against the walls, awaiting news about their wounded family members. 

Their eyes darted to the swinging doors at the end of the hall, their faces etched with concern.

Hospital staff set up a bar in one corner, selling beverages and food to weary family members.

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