The tunnel stretched endlessly beneath the city — damp, silent, and pulsing with faint mechanical life. Ethan led the way, flashlight in hand, and its narrow beam slicing through the dark. Behind him, Hannah’s footsteps were steady, rifle raised. Maya’s breathing was shallow, and Dr. Taylor trailed them, his scanner glowing faint green in the gloom.
Myles was gone.
The collapse had swallowed her and the upper tunnel whole. Ethan could still hear the thunder of the falling debris, still see the flash of her hand as the dust consumed her. Her last words burned in his mind like fire:
“Find the Core before they do.”
He clenched his jaw and kept walking.
For minutes that felt like hours, the only sounds were their breaths and the distant drip of condensation from the walls. Then, from the
