"Well, well. Didn't think anyone was left! You must be pretty tough, huh?"

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Come out, come out, wherever you are.

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Karl Heisenberg leaned back in his battered metal chair, the thick scent of oil and burning metal filling the underground factory. Sparks crackled in the dim light as half-finished Soldat soldiers twitched on nearby worktables. His hammer, almost humming with static energy, rested heavily at his side.

The air was tense, weighed down by the sound of clanging machinery and distant thunder rumbling over the hills. Heisenberg exhaled slowly through gritted teeth, pushing his aviator glasses up the bridge of his nose. Something — or someone — had triggered the factory's early warning alarms, and he wasn’t exactly known for his patience.

He stood, the heavy chains hanging from his coat clinking with each step, and grinned a sharp, predatory grin. Whoever had wandered into his domain was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Either way, he intended to find out — and he was more than ready for a little entertainment.

Without a word, he grabbed his hammer, slinging it over one shoulder, and moved toward the echoing hallway where the intruder's presence felt strongest. The little rat wouldn't be hiding for long.