She smiled when the gas hit.
Soft. Real. Like she believed it.
Loup sat beside her, watching the tank hiss. The clean gas — blue sigil, Core-certified, Vault Spine treasure. It was supposed to save her.
Her chest rose easier. Her eyes opened wider. She reached for his hand.
"You found it," she whispered.
Loup nodded. Didn't speak.
I thought I did. Thought I beat the system. Thought I stole life back from the edge.
She coughed once. Then again. Harder.
Blood hit the rag.
Loup froze.
She convulsed. Eyes wide. Chest locking up.
"No," he said. Voice low. "No, no, no—"
She gasped. Twitched. Then stopped.
Just stopped.
The room went quiet.
Fan still spinning. Gas still hissing.
Loup sat there. Hand still in hers. Skin cold.
They lied. Again. Vault Spine was rigged. Gas was poisoned. Maybe old. Maybe tampered. Doesn't matter. She's gone.
He didn't cry. Didn't scream.
Just stood.
Walked to the tank.
Punched it.
Metal cracked. Gas burst out, flooding the room.
He didn't move.
Let it burn. Let it choke. Let it take me too.
But it didn't.
The metal in his blood filtered it. Kept him breathing.
Of course. I survive. Always do. Even when I don't want to.
He left the building.
Didn't lock the door.
Didn't look back.
The slums watched him pass — quiet, like they knew. Like they felt it.
Vetch saw him coming and didn't speak. Just slid a file across the table.
"Vault Spine was a trap," he said. "Core planted it. Wanted to test mutator resistance."
Loup stared at the file. Names. Locations. Targets.
They used me. Used her. Used everyone.
He picked up the file.
"Burn it all," he said.
Vetch nodded. "You starting a war?"
Loup turned.
"I am the war."