The ruins breathed with a sound that was not wind.
Lin staggered forward, his body trembling with each uneven step, Min-joon bracing him on one side while Hwan darted ahead, scanning corners, ears tuned to the smallest scrape in the dark. Behind them, Keller swore under his breath as the rattle of engines grew louder. The militia hadn't broken after their losses. If anything, they had doubled down, regrouping with heavier machines, stronger men, and something worse trailing in their wake.
The night shivered with floodlights cutting swathes across the rubble. Voices barked in a guttural mix of Korean slang and scavenger code. They weren't just searching—they were hunting. And Lin could feel the hunt pressing on his bones like pressure from the deep.
"Keep moving," Min-joon hissed, his voice low but urgent.
