The eyes blinked.
Not together. One first, then the other — like two systems running on different clocks. Yellow. Wet. The size of dinner plates and sitting eight feet off the ground, which meant whatever owned them was big enough to fill the tunnel.
Nobody moved.
The growl came again. Low and deep. I felt it in my kneecaps before I heard it in my ears. It wasn't just sound — it was vibration, rolling through the floor and up through the soles of my boots like the tunnel itself was clearing its throat.
"Nobody run," Glitch whispered. His voice was so quiet I almost missed it under the dripping water. "Predators chase movement."
"What is it?" Maya breathed. Her rifle was up. Her metal arm was steady. But even she sounded careful.
"I don't know. My datapad doesn't have any information about it. No classification. No listing. Whatever this thing is — the Corporation doesn't know it exists."
The eyes shifted. It moved to the left. Then to the right. It was studying us.
