The light blinded everyone for a second as shadows spilled in behind the officers.
"Sir! I'm sorry!" a man suddenly cried out, panic cracking his voice.
Is he adressing grandpa? Enor wondered.
The man was shackled and kneeling in the harsh light flooding the tunnel. The glare made it impossible to see clearly, but she caught glimpses: blood smeared across his cheek, the torn insignia of a uniform, shoulders trembling as if the weight on them had broken something inside.
"I told them everything. I did what you asked," he babbled. "I didn't mean to let the signal trace back. I, I just wanted... My daughter... They..."
He sobbed and dropped his head, pressing his forehead to the dirt like he was praying for forgiveness from people who had none left to give.
Figures loomed behind him. Dozens, maybe more. Enor couldn't count. The bend in the tunnel distorted everything, and the blinding white of the floodlight washed out their shapes. Just silhouettes. Shifting shadows. A glint of silver now and then, rifles reflecting the floodlight like fangs in the dark.
One stepped forward and struck the man with the butt of his rifle.
He let out a hoarse grunt and slumped sideways.
Then came the voice.
"Dr. Orven, step forward and kneel. Hands in the air."
Grandpa moved immediately.
No hesitation. No protest. Just obedience. He stepped into the light with his hands raised, expression unreadable.
From where Enor crouched, hidden just behind the bend in the tunnel wall, she saw the smallest shift in him. His jaw locked. Tension flared beneath his skin. And his eyes carried heavy sorrow.
We're doomed.
The thought didn't just echo. It hammered, louder with every breath.
Next to her, Cedrik didn't move. Didn't even breathe. His body was still, but his chest stuttered with tiny tremors. She could feel his panic, could hear the faint hitch in his throat.
Her own situation wasn't any better. Her legs refused to respond. Her nails clawed at the damp dirt beneath her, as if she could anchor her body while her mind spiraled off.
"Who else is with you?" the soldier called out again.
There was a brief silence. Then Grandpa's voice broke through, louder than it had ever been.
"Run."
And that was enough to snap Ar into action.
In one fluid motion, he grabbed Enor and Cedrik, yanked them back, snatched up Grandpa's backpacks, and kicked the heavy hatch shut behind them with a slam that shook dust from the tunnel walls.
"Wait, Grandpa!" Cedrik twisted back toward the door, voice cracking.
Ar's grip tightened around his wrist. "Go."
Shouts exploded behind them. Boots pounded. Fists slammed against the metallic door.
"They're escaping! Seal the exits!"
The tunnel detonated with noise.
They ran.
The air turned hot and thin. The walls pressed in. Their footfalls hit dirt in panicked bursts. Enor felt her heart spike into her throat. She didn't know if she was breathing or choking or just falling forward.
Cedrik, on the other hand, wasn't slowing down. He was disconnecting. His steps carried him forward, but his mind had stopped somewhere behind.
His grandfather had stepped into the light and knelt. Then the door had closed.
And that was it.
Gone.
Enor was running too, but her chest ached. It felt like she was still back there, crouched behind the bend, watching it happen. Her body moved now, but the rest of her, her thoughts and her sense of time, was still catching up.
Then Ar stopped.
So suddenly that they almost collided into him.
He didn't look panicked. He didn't look rushed. He simply turned and glanced behind them, calm and calculating.
Enor recognized the subtle change. The sharp, dark glint in his eyes. The barely contained rage.
"I can take them," he muttered as if talking to himself.
The way he said it was not hopeful. Not threatening. Just a chilling certainty.
Cedrik, still in a daze, didn't respond. He just stared at Ar like the sentence hadn't registered.
"I could tear through every one of them," Ar repeated, eyes narrowing. "But not here."
He motioned to the walls.
"Too tight. No room to move. I can't fight and protect two people boxed in."
Then, without giving them time to answer, he muttered, "The house is probably surrounded. But it's our only option."
He turned and went back to walking.
Enor stared after him, throat tightening.
Did he just...?
She should be feeling safer now. Reassured. Someone still had a plan, someone was thinking straight.
But what settled in her gut wasn't relief. It was dread.
And it wasn't just what Ar said. It was how easily he said it. As if killing soldiers was just another thing on the list.
She had a flash of deja vu. The way he stared down Varin that day.
That same mask was on now. And its cracks were becoming more visible.
That was enough for her to finally believe that she didn't really know Ar. Only what he let them see.
Cedrik stumbled slightly beside her, snapping her back to the present. His breath was shallow. One hand rested against the wall. He opened his mouth like he wanted to speak, but nothing came. His lips just closed again.
He looked hollow. Not broken. Just unfinished. Like a part of him had stayed behind, kneeling with Grandpa.
And finally,there it is, the ladder.
It rose into the dark. Old and rusted. Each rung worn from years of waiting.
Ar climbed first. At the top, he paused, cracked the hatch open, waited, then pushed it fully aside and vanished.
Seconds passed.
Then, "Clear. Come up."
Enor climbed next. Her hands trembled. The metal was cold, the grip slippery. At the top, Ar reached out and hauled her up in one clean motion.
The air was fresher here. But relief didn't come.
Something was wrong.
She blinked. Froze.
The house was torn apart.
Everything was there, but not. Monitors still flickered. Cables still ran across the floor. But the order was gone. The control. The calm. Replaced by overturned chairs, torn bags, drawers pulled open with surgical violence. Holes in the walls. Boot prints in drying blood.
The soldiers had been here too. But they hadn't just searched.
They had ransacked.
Cedrik climbed up last, slower than the others. His movements were stiff.
He looked around. Slow. Dull-eyed. Like he couldn't figure out where he was.
"We were away for just one hour," he muttered. His voice cracked with pain.
Ar closed the hatch behind them and twisted the locks with fast, deliberate turns.
"Focus. We're not safe yet," he said, voice flat. "The surroundings don't seem as bad as I expected though." He moved toward the front of the house, crouching low beneath the window.
"The street's empty. No posted units."
Bang.
A thud suddenly jolted beneath their feet.
The hatch shook.
Enor's pulse spiked.
They had made it through the tunnel.
Another slam. Then a grinding sound. Metal being forced.
"We have a minute, maybe," Ar muttered.
He moved to the door and cracked it open.
A rush of cold air swept in. Then came the sound. Low. Humming. Pulsing.
Enor looked up.
A helicopter.
Circling above.
Its light cut across rooftops like a blade.
Ar turned back, eyes sharp.
"When I say run," he said, "you run. Split if you have to. Don't look back."
Cedrik didn't react. Still frozen.
Enor just nodded. Her chest felt like it was going to explode.
"If anything goes wrong," Ar added, stepping closer, voice sharper now, "I'll handle it. Just. Don't. Stop."
Then he opened the door wide.
"Now."
They ran.
Out into a world that no longer felt like their own.
The street was a warzone painted in silence. Debris. Shattered lamps. Hanging wires. No people. No shouting. Just the thump of the helicopter above and the bang of the hatch giving way behind them.
Ar led the way. Fast and ghostlike. He cut across a yard and into an alley of half-fallen fences and overgrown roots.
The metal door slammed again behind them.
Then came the sound of boots.
Fast. Many.
"They broke it," Enor breathed between shallow gasps.
"Faster," Ar hissed.
They ran harder. Lungs burning.
They turned a corner, then dropped low behind a hedge.
They crouched in silence. Lungs dragging in uneven breaths.
The only sound now was the rasp of air, the thud of racing hearts, and the far-off echoes from the helicopter. The world outside felt too loud. Too still. Like something had paused mid-disaster, holding its breath.
Enor doubled over, gripping her knees. Head bowed. The regulator against her collarbone flickered in a chaotic rhythm.
Cedrik collapsed beside her. Silent. Pale.
Ar didn't sit for long.
He stood after only a beat. His eyes scanned the alleyway. And without looking at them, he said, voice low and steady, "Still not safe. Come on. We need to go further."
Enor clutched the backpack tighter against her chest. It felt heavier than before. Full of weight she couldn't name. Her limbs screamed in protest, but adrenaline kept her upright. She forced her foot to shift, preparing to stand.
Then Cedrik spoke.
"Ar?"
His voice cracked.
"Grandpa... Will we ever go back for him?"
Ar turned slowly. Stiff. Like the question struck something he couldn't afford to feel.
"I don't know," he said after a pause. "We'll think about it. We need to reach safety first."
"But Ar..."
Cedrik's voice sharpened. Still low. Still hoarse. But clearer now. Accusing.
"You could've jumped in. Back then. You could've fought them before he gave himself up. I know you could've."
Ar's eyes widened. Barely. Just enough to show the hit landed. His gaze flicked to Cedrik. Unreadable.
Then it softened.
He clenched his fists. Held them down like he was bracing against something rising up inside. His lips parted. Words forming. Something unspoken right at the edge. But then—
Phweep.
A sharp whistle split the air.
They froze.
The sound came from nearby. Close enough to target. Far enough to echo.
Enor's heart slammed into her ribs.
Ar staggered. One hand shot to his neck.
A dart was there. Small. Clean. Barely visible.
But the red was already blooming.
His fingers trembled.
"Damn it. I lost focus again..." Ar muttered. His voice slurred at the edges. "They had a clear shot."
Then his knees buckled. And everything went loose.
Cedrik lunged and caught him just before he hit the ground.
"H-Hey! What happened… Ar!" he shouted, voice rising in panic.
Enor scrambled closer, heart hammering. Her eyes flicked to the dart still stuck in Ar's neck.
"Heavy sedatives," she muttered, breath short. "They always use these to catch us... Like some rabid animals."
Her voice cracked. Then she snapped, "Damn it, we need to move! Whoever shot him is certainly aiming at us right now. Let's carry him before anyone else comes!"
But then—
Boots. Again.
Pounding on the concrete. Close. Echoing through the alley like a drumbeat of dread.
Enor froze.
"No," she breathed. The word slipped out, cracked and useless.
Her breath hitched. She whispered again, softer this time. Broken.
"Please no... Not now..."
A cold desperation crashed into her like a wave she hadn't braced for. Sudden and merciless.