The building stood six stories tall, its exterior walls made of dark red brick. In some places, the bricks had loosened and fallen away, exposing the gray cement beneath.
Most of the windows had been boarded up, with only a few still leaking faint light.
That light came from candles and flashlights, not electric lamps, because this building had had its power cut off three years ago.
The door was locked, but Alice did not need a key.
She placed her hand on the lock. Her Vibranium fingers exerted a slight force, and the metal inside the lock yielded beneath her fingertips like butter.
She pushed open the door and walked inside.
The entry hall was dark, and the air was thick with mildew and some indescribable stench of decay.
Discarded paper, empty liquor bottles, and syringe needles littered the floor.
This place had once been a gathering spot for addicts and homeless people, but it seemed to have been cleared out recently.
A thin layer of dust covered the trash, indicating that no one had come here for at least a month.
Alice's footsteps echoed through the empty hall.
She did not need light. Her eyes could see more clearly in the darkness than an owl's.
Her ears could catch every tiny sound upstairs: breathing, heartbeats, the sound of electricity flowing through wires.
There was no electricity in this building, so all she heard was the wind, the squeaking of rats, and—
One person's heartbeat.
On the fourth floor.
Slow and steady, around fifty beats per minute.
That was the heart rate of a trained person—not an ordinary person, but a warrior.
Maintaining a heart rate of fifty beats per minute while asleep meant this person's physical capabilities far surpassed those of an ordinary human.
A Skrull.
Alice headed