Noah put his hood down and stepped into the elevator, the cold steel walls reflecting his calm, detached expression.
"Ding!"
The doors of the elevator slid open, he walked out of the building without so much as a backward glance.
Once outside, he paused for a moment, scanning the quiet street. With a sigh, he rang the bell for Apartment 16.
No response.
Shrugging slightly, Noah moved to the next apartment. Apartment 17.
He pressed the button and waited, his hands now in his pockets clearly not interested in ringing again.
The silence was interrupted by a soft crackle through the intercom, and a woman's voice, hazy with sleep, answered.
"Who… who's this?" she asked, her voice slightly confused, groggy from being suddenly awoken.
Noah didn't waste time on pleasantries.
His tone was steady, almost clinical.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
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