It was practically a miracle how I was able to survive any of that at all.

Swinging first. Shooting first. Violence before thought.

That seemed to be the only language this place respected.

My chest heaved as I leaned against the wall of some narrow alley I’d stumbled into, the adrenaline finally bleeding out of my system in ugly little waves. Sweat clung to the back of my neck. My fingers still twitched from recoil.

I closed my eyes for a second.

Opened them again.

Looked up—

And realized there was no sky.

Just another ceiling.

Concrete stretched high above the alleyway, lined with pipes and artificial lights that hummed faintly overhead. No stars. No moon. No wind.

The realization hit me harder than the gunfights did.

This place was buried so deep underground it genuinely felt disconnected from the world above it. Like somebody had carved out an entirely different civilization beneath the apocalypse and decided the rest of humanity wasn’t worth saving.

I suddenly felt claustrophobic as hell.

Not panic.

Something slower.

Like the walls themselves were inching inward.

I wanted out.

Now.

Everything about this place was wrong. The people. The cleanliness. The way soldiers moved like they belonged to something organized instead of just surviving day by day.

And then there was Bill.

Seeing him down here had tipped something over in my head completely.

Because if Bill was here?

If someone like him had managed to sink his claws into this place that quickly?

Then this underground city wasn’t nearly as controlled as it wanted people to think.

I dragged a hand down my face slowly before pushing myself off the wall.

My legs still felt weak from the partial lattice integration.

Cold, too.

Like parts of my nerves hadn’t fully decided whether they belonged to me anymore.

I hated that feeling most.

Not pain.

Not blood.

That.

The feeling that my body was slowly becoming unfamiliar.

I swallowed hard.

Then the memory hit me again.

Clear as day.

—

"HANDS IN THE AIR!"

The rifles aimed at me didn’t shake.

Underground soldiers were different from topside scavengers. More disciplined. Better fed. Better equipped.

More confident.

I stood there breathing hard, blood dripping from my nose onto my mouth as the train behind them began pulling away down the tracks.

Lila slammed both hands against the glass from inside.

Hard.

Again.

Again.

Her mouth moved around my name but I couldn’t hear her through the thick windows.

I watched the train disappear farther down the tunnel.

Then I looked back at the guns in my face.

Mine clicked uselessly when I tried the trigger.

Empty.

I stared at it for half a second before dropping it onto the concrete.

The sound echoed.

Nobody moved immediately.

Bill stood near the back of the soldiers, hands tucked into the pockets of some stolen underground jacket. He looked weirdly comfortable there.

Not smug.

Not amused.

Curious.

Like he’d found a puzzle he wanted to pull apart.

"Looks like I finally caught you," he said.

I ignored that.

My hands stayed raised.

"What," I asked, breathing hard, "you working for them now?"

Bill smiled faintly at that.

"You know, Harry told me something about you." He tilted his head slightly. "Wasn’t sure I believed him though."

I frowned but said nothing.

One of the soldiers started stepping toward me carefully.

Slow.

Trying to calm the situation down.

"Listen," he started, "if you cooperate, nobody has to—"

Even he sounded unsure.

Because we both knew I wasn’t some civilian getting detained anymore.

Not after the medical wing.

Not after Jennifer.

Bill’s eyes stayed locked on me.

"I gotta ask though," he said quietly.

I looked at him.

"What are you really?"

The soldier got close enough.

That was his mistake.

I moved instantly.

My hands snapped onto the rifle before he could react properly. I yanked it sideways hard enough to throw off his aim, then drove my forehead into his nose.

Bone cracked.

The rifle discharged into the ceiling.

Everybody shouted at once.

I ripped the weapon free while the soldier staggered backward and immediately fired into the kneecap of the man beside him.

Not fatal.

Just enough to drop him screaming.

Chaos spread fast after that.

I grabbed the wounded soldier by the vest and shoved him directly into another burst of gunfire coming my way.

Blood sprayed across the tunnel wall.

Somebody yelled my name.

Bill maybe.

Didn’t matter.

I moved before the body even hit the floor.

A third soldier rushed me from the side with a baton.

I shot him twice through the chest.

The recoil slammed through my arms.

The tunnel erupted into panic.

People started backing away instead of advancing now.

That part mattered.

Fear changed people.

Once people realized you were genuinely willing to do terrible things to survive, they stopped thinking clearly.

And I weaponized that immediately.

I grabbed the wounded man off the ground and pressed the rifle beneath his jaw.

"MOVE!" I screamed.

Nobody fired.

Good.

I started backing away slowly, dragging the soldier with me.

Bill watched the whole thing carefully.

Not shocked.

Analyzing.

Always analyzing.

"You shoot me," I shouted toward the others, "and he dies first."

The soldier in my grip whimpered something under his breath.

Nobody moved.

The underground soldiers exchanged glances with each other.

Uncertainty.

There it was again.

That hesitation.

This place wasn’t used to unpredictable people.

Not really.

Then Bill spoke again.

Calm as ever.

"You’re tired."

I ignored him.

"You’re bleeding."

Still ignored him.

"And eventually," he continued, "you’re gonna run outta places to go."

My jaw tightened.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

That was the worst part.

I shoved the hostage forward suddenly before firing toward the lights overhead.

Glass exploded.

The tunnel plunged halfway into darkness.

People started shouting again.

That gave me my opening.

I ran.

—

My fingers instinctively swept beneath my nose again.

Checking.

No blood.

I stared at my hand afterward.

Clean.

Guess whatever tweaks they’d made to my body had fixed that problem.

Not exactly easy to complain about.

Not now anyway.

I pushed myself farther down the alley slowly, exhaustion dragging at every step.

The adrenaline crash was getting ugly now.

My shoulders hurt.

My ribs hurt.

Hell, even breathing felt irritating.

And somewhere underneath all of it sat a thought I didn’t really want to acknowledge.

Maybe retaining my humanity didn’t interest me as much anymore.

Not like before.

I used to cling to the idea desperately.

Being normal.

Thinking normal.

Feeling guilty after violence.

But the apocalypse had a way of sanding pieces off you until eventually survival became the only instinct left.

I hated how easy pulling the trigger was getting.

How natural it felt.

Still—

I needed to find Lila.

That thought grounded me immediately.

I looked down another branching corridor, frustration building in my chest again.

I didn’t even know where that damn train had gone.

Didn’t know this city.

Didn’t know the layout.

Didn’t know who controlled what.

Every hallway looked the same.

Every sign carried the same Crucible symbol.

Every armed patrol looked ready to put me down on sight.

A pit started forming in my stomach.

Separated.

Again.

And this time I genuinely had no idea for how long.

I rubbed at my eyes hard before forcing myself to keep moving.

She’d find me.

Or I’d find her.

One way or another.

That infection inside her practically dragged her toward me whether she wanted it to or not.

The thought should’ve disturbed me more than it did.

Instead it just made me keep walking.

—

Lila slammed against the train window hard enough to make it shake.

Again.

Again.

The tunnel outside blurred as the train sped farther away from the station Adrian had disappeared in.

Her breathing came uneven now.

Sharp.

Animalistic.

She hit the glass once more before finally realizing it wouldn’t budge.

Then the frustration inside her seemed to collapse inward all at once.

She crumpled to her knees.

Saliva dripped from her mouth onto the floor beneath her.

Her fingers twitched violently against the metal.

The farther the train got from Adrian, the worse it became.

Like every inch of distance physically hurt her.

Eventually something massive blocked the tunnel windows entirely.

Concrete.

Steel.

No more view of where he’d been.

Lila stayed kneeling there for a second longer before slowly turning around.

That’s when she noticed the others.

Passengers.

Only a handful.

Maybe six people total scattered through the train car.

Normal looking people.

Clean clothes.

No weapons visible.

The moment their eyes landed on her, the atmosphere shifted instantly.

Fear spread quietly.

Nobody screamed.

Nobody panicked openly.

But they looked at her the way people looked at infected topside.

Like they’d just realized something dangerous had entered the room with them.

One older man slowly lowered the newspaper he’d been pretending to read.

A woman tightened her grip around her child subtly.

Another passenger glanced toward the emergency intercom near the train door.

Lila’s breathing worsened.

The urges in her head kept climbing.

Adrian.

Find Adrian.

The thought looped violently now.

One of the passengers finally spoke quietly.

"...how the hell did one of those get down here?"

"Keep your voice down," another muttered immediately.

"But look at her."

"I am looking at her."

A pause.

Then quieter—

"I thought they said we’d never have to deal with this shit down here."

Nobody answered that immediately.

Because everybody there already understood what the statement implied.

The underground city hadn’t been built after the apocalypse.

It had been ready before it.

Prepared.

Waiting.

Lila slowly pushed herself upright.

The passengers stiffened instantly.

One man stood halfway from his seat before stopping himself.

"She’s infected," somebody whispered.

"Obviously."

"Then where are security?"

"Would you shut the fuck up?"

Lila’s bloodshot eyes moved across them slowly.

Her jaw twitched.

The infection urges were becoming unbearable now.

Not hunger.

Not exactly.

Something worse.

Frustration.

Separation.

Need.

She started walking toward them.

Slowly.

Her limbs jerked slightly with every step.

The passengers recoiled immediately.

The mother grabbed her child tighter.

One man backed himself hard against the train wall.

Another reached shakily for something beneath his coat.

Lila’s expression darkened further.

Tears mixed with the redness in her eyes.

Her fingers flexed violently at her sides.

And then the train lights flickered once overhead.

Once.

Twice.

Before the entire car suddenly plunged into darkness.