The night was long and endless.
The road stretched before them like a scar—cracked asphalt vanishing into the dark horizon. The convoy's engines were the only sound breaking the silence, low and steady, as if the vehicles themselves were too tired to run.
Inside the lead truck, Riku sat in the passenger seat beside Ichika, his rifle resting between his knees. His eyes were fixed on the faint glow of the dashboard, but his mind was miles away—back at the refinery, back at the crater where the earth had screamed.
Suzune's voice came over the radio, faint under the static. "Status check. Vehicle two, report."
Reyes' reply crackled through. "Holding steady. Fuel's low, but we'll make Echo if we stay under sixty."
"Copy that," Suzune said. "Keep formation."
Riku finally spoke, his voice rough. "How's the rear watch?"
"Quiet," Ichika said, gripping the wheel tighter. "But it's too damn quiet. No contacts on thermal, no movement on the scanners."
