Eira sat by the map base, pretending to recalibrate its radius, though her fingers hadn't moved in minutes. Her eyes flicked to the side corridor—Ysel had passed by, said nothing.
Again.
Kael stepped into the room, quiet as a thought.
"She's off," he said simply.
Eira looked up, startled—not at the words, but at the certainty in his voice.
"You feel it too?" she asked.
Kael knelt beside her. He nodded. "She's still sharp, still strategic... but her rhythm's wrong. Like she's waiting for something to collapse."
Eira didn't respond right away. Her throat felt tight.
"I thought I was imagining it," she said softly. "She looked at me earlier like—like she already knew something I didn't."
Kael's voice lowered. "Maybe she does."
That silence between them stretched—not awkward, but fragile.
Kael leaned closer, his tone more hesitant now. "And you? Are you okay?"
Eira's fingers clenched slightly around the map's edge.
"I don't know how to be honest about it," she said, eyes fixed on the flickering projection. "I've spent so long pretending I'm fine that I've started to forget where the pretending ends."
Kael's hand found hers. Warm, steady.
"You don't have to explain it all at once. You can... show me. One piece at a time."
That undid her.
Her breath caught, a tremble rising in her chest she didn't fully understand. Not fear. Not sorrow. Recognition.
"I think I'm afraid," she admitted. "That if I let it all out... I won't be able to stop."
Kael's hand didn't let go.
"Then I'll be here when you do."
She turned to him then, eyes meeting his.
Not a kiss. Not yet.
But something passed between them—a vow made without words.
Something that said: We're still here. And we choose to be.
The map flickered again, the lines distorting.
Kael pulled back slightly. "That's not just signal loss."
And just like that, the pressure started rising again.
The soft glow of the map flickered, shadows dancing like ghosts on the concrete walls. Eira's fingers still trembled lightly where Kael's hand had rested, but she pushed it down, focusing on the lines that blurred in and out of focus.
A low rumble vibrated beneath the floor—barely perceptible at first, but growing steadily. The city was breathing. Watching.
Kael's eyes snapped toward the grated vent near the ceiling. "We're not alone."
Before Eira could respond, a familiar voice slithered through the doorway.
"Well, well. You two look cozy."
Wren leaned casually against the frame, an impish grin flickering across his face. His eyes glittered—half amusement, half something unreadable.
Eira stiffened.
Kael tensed.
Wren pushed off the wall and stepped fully into the room, fingers trailing along the dusty surfaces like a cat marking territory. "The system's tightening its noose. You can feel it, can't you?"
He didn't wait for an answer. His grin widened. "That little flicker on the map? The blinking red on your comm feed? Those aren't glitches. They're warnings."
Eira swallowed.
Kael's jaw clenched. "How much do you know?"
Wren's smile flickered, just for a moment—too quick to be genuine. "More than you think. And less than I want."
His gaze shifted toward the locked door behind them, where distant sirens wailed like banshees.
"The city doesn't like questions. Not the ones you're asking."
He stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "You're on borrowed time."
Then, without waiting, Wren turned and vanished down the corridor, leaving behind a scent of ozone and something metallic—like the edge of a warning.
The room seemed colder.
Kael and Eira exchanged a look heavy with everything unspoken.
The system was waking up. And it wasn't just watching anymore.
The door clicked shut behind Wren's retreating footsteps, leaving Eira and Kael in a charged silence.
Eira's chest felt tight—as if the air itself had thickened. The tremor in her fingers from Kael's touch earlier now pulsed with unease, a warning flaring to life deep inside.
Kael broke the quiet first, voice low, rough around the edges. "He's right. The flickers aren't random. The system's hunting us."
Eira nodded slowly, swallowing the lump that formed. "It's like the city knows we're slipping. Like it's trying to drag us back in."
Her eyes flicked to the map, the faint red blinking in steady rhythm.
"We can't stay here," Kael said, stepping closer, his gaze locking on hers. "The more time we spend, the easier it is for them to trace our moves."
Eira bit her lip. "But where? Every safe place we know could be compromised now. Even Ysel seemed... distracted."
Kael's jaw tightened. "We'll have to trust her. And Wren, if he's actually warning us."
Eira shook her head, conflicted. "Trust isn't easy. Especially with him."
Kael's expression softened. "I know. But right now, we need all the allies we can get."
For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The weight of the city pressed in around them, heavy and relentless.
Eira took a shaky breath. "It's not just the danger outside," she admitted quietly. "It's how... how I feel inside. Like I'm unraveling. Like I'm losing the parts of myself I'm trying to hold together."
Kael reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear with careful fingers. "You're not losing yourself. You're finding the pieces you didn't know were missing."
Her eyes met his, searching. "And if I fall apart?"
"Then I'll be here to catch you," he said, voice steady but fierce.
Eira's lips trembled, a fragile smile breaking through the fear. "I want to believe that."
Kael nodded, tightening his hold. "We'll figure this out. Together."
The silence stretched again, but now it was different. Charged not with fear, but with something raw and real.
Then the map flickered sharply, the red pulse speeding up.
Eira's breath caught.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"The city's closing in," he said grimly. "We don't have much time."
They moved quickly then—no words wasted. Packing data drives, securing weapons salvaged from the old world, memorizing escape routes twisted through forgotten tunnels.
Each motion was precise but heavy with unspoken tension—each glance a silent promise, a question, a plea.
The tightening grip of Aurelis was no longer just outside their walls.
It was inside them too.