Elias forced himself upright, knees shaking, shoulder screaming with every inch. The burn lanced through his arm as he pushed up on one elbow, then another.
"Junjio, don't!"
The shout broke through the tension like a dropped plate. His voice cracked at the end.
The prompt's glow burned hot in his vision—Save a life. 23:52—and Elias felt the weight of it settle in.
I can't save anyone like this. Not as the enemy.
His heart pounded hard against his ribs. Blood dripped again, slower now, from the soaked edge of his sleeve. Dot's hum stayed steady near his side.
He leaned slightly, keeping his hand low.
"Dot," he whispered. "Follow my lead. I need a prop. Looks real. Shatters on impact."
The glow at her center pulsed once in answer—silent agreement.
Around them, the lights flickered overhead. Shadows jumped across the broken tiles and the torn seams of the pods. Somewhere beyond the open door, conduits sparked against the corridor wall.
