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Cass didn't hesitate. He grabbed Elara's hand and yanked her away from the pedestal.
The masked figures surged forward, their boots striking the stone floor in unison, the sound thunderous inside the cavernous ruins.
"Go!" Cass barked.
They bolted, their footsteps echoing as they darted between moss-slick pillars. The flashlight beam in Cass's hand swung wildly, casting fractured shadows that danced and stretched along the walls like specters.
Elara's lungs burned. Her bag smacked against her side with every stride, but she clutched the journal tighter, refusing to let go. The words of their father—the secrets buried in the pages—flashed through her mind, colliding with the pounding rhythm of her heart.
Behind them, a sharp command cut through the din.
"Don't let them escape!"
The voice wasn't distorted this time. Whoever was under that mask was close—too close. The sound carried with authority, sharp and commanding, and it sank its hooks into Elara's chest.
Cass skidded around a corner, yanking her with him. The chamber funneled into a low tunnel, the ceiling dripping with water. The flashlight beam jittered across the carved stone. Elara caught glimpses of symbols as they fled—crescents, fractured circles, runes like jagged stars—but there was no time to stop, no time to think.
"Cass!" she gasped, struggling to keep pace. "We don't know where this leads!"
"Better than back there!" he shot back.
The tunnel sloped downward. Their boots splashed into shallow water, each step throwing up arcs of spray. The air grew colder, damp with mildew, the smell of rot clinging to every breath.
A metallic click echoed behind them.
Elara's stomach lurched. She knew that sound.
A heartbeat later, a gunshot ripped through the tunnel. The blast thundered in the confined space, deafening. Stone exploded inches from Cass's head, showering them with dust and sharp fragments.
Elara screamed, ducking instinctively.
Cass didn't break stride. "Keep moving!"
They ran harder, lungs tearing for air. Elara stumbled once, nearly plunging into the water, but Cass steadied her without slowing. His grip was iron, unyielding.
The tunnel bent sharply and then split.
To the left: a narrow passage, so tight they'd have to squeeze through sideways.
To the right: a stairway, spiraling upward into shadow.
Cass didn't hesitate. "Stairs!"
They scrambled upward, boots slipping on slick stone steps. Elara's thighs screamed with effort, but adrenaline drove her on.
Another gunshot cracked behind them, ricocheting off the walls. Sparks showered the steps just below her foot.
"Faster!" Cass urged, shoving her ahead.
The stairway ended at a rusted grate, its bars streaked with corrosion. Without slowing, Cass slammed his shoulder against it. Once. Twice. Metal groaned, then tore free with a scream of protest.
They burst out into the night.
The storm had passed, but the air outside was damp and heavy, laced with the scent of rain and rust. They were no longer underground but in the skeleton of Bellwick's industrial quarter. Towering warehouses, long abandoned, loomed like broken teeth. Their windows gaped hollow and black, their roofs caved in. In the distance, the river glistened faintly under the moon.
Cass shoved the grate aside. "Come on!"
Elara scrambled after him, her chest heaving, ears still ringing from the gunfire. Behind them, the masked figures spilled out of the tunnel entrance, their silhouettes stark against the ruin.
"Split up!" Cass hissed.
"No!" Elara shot back, panic gripping her throat.
"We'll lose them faster that way—"
"We're stronger together!"
For an instant, their eyes locked—a battle of wills compressed into a single breath. But the sound of pursuit closed in, boots pounding the pavement.
Cass swore and yanked her forward. "Fine. Together."
They plunged into the shadowed husk of a warehouse. Inside, rusted beams jutted like ribs, rubble scattered across the cracked floor. Moonlight streamed through holes in the roof, falling in broken shafts that illuminated the dust swirling in the air.
The sound of pursuit echoed louder. Flashlights swept across the ruin, beams bouncing, voices calling to each other.
"They went this way!"
Cass pulled Elara toward the far side of the warehouse, where a collapsed wall gaped open. Moonlight poured through, revealing a path.
"This way!"
They scrambled over broken bricks and twisted rebar, Elara's palms scraping raw. Her legs shook, but terror pushed her on.
A flashlight beam slashed across the rubble.
"Cass!" she cried.
He turned in time to see the glint of a gun.
Bang!
The bullet slammed into the wall inches from Elara's head, splintering stone. She shrieked, flinching back.
Cass whirled, fury blazing in his eyes. "Keep running, Lara! Don't stop!"
They tumbled out into the open, onto cracked pavement overgrown with weeds. The river was closer now, rushing black and fast along the edge of the district.
Ahead, an old footbridge arched across the water, its planks rotting but still intact.
"That's our way out!" Cass shouted.
They sprinted, the bridge groaning beneath their weight. Halfway across, one of the planks gave way under Cass's foot. Wood splintered with a sharp crack.
He stumbled, nearly pitching into the water.
"Cass!" Elara screamed, grabbing his arm with all her strength.
He steadied himself, pulling free. "Go!"
Another gunshot rang out. The bullet slammed into the railing beside Elara, wood flying. She ducked instinctively, heart hammering.
They pushed onward, each step a gamble. The bridge swayed under their weight, threatening to collapse. But momentum drove them forward.
They reached the far side, lungs raw, bodies shaking. Cass spun, fury in every motion. He kicked at the final plank with all his weight. It snapped, tearing loose with a groan. The bridge shuddered, sagging precariously.
The masked pursuers skidded to a halt at the opposite end. Flashlights jittered as they steadied themselves. For a tense heartbeat, it seemed they might risk the crossing anyway.
But the leader—the one who had spoken before—raised a hand.
"Enough."
The figures froze, their obedience instantaneous, chilling.
Cass and Elara backed into the shadows of the trees lining the riverbank, never taking their eyes off the enemy.
The leader stepped to the edge of the ruined bridge. His mask gleamed in the moonlight, blank and featureless except for the faint etching of an eye carved into its forehead. His voice carried across the water, low and sharp, cutting into the night.
"You can't run forever. The map belongs to us."
Elara felt the words slice straight through her. The journal seemed to pulse in her arms, heavy, alive.
Cass's jaw clenched. His hand tightened around hers.
"Yeah?" he shouted back. His voice was ragged, furious, but unbroken. "Come and get it."
The masked men stood silent, their flashlights burning like cold stars in the distance. They did not follow. They only watched as the siblings melted into the forest shadows, swallowed by the night.
Elara's legs nearly buckled beneath her. Every step felt like it might be her last, but Cass's grip kept her upright.
They had escaped—for now.
But the words lingered in the dark like a curse:
The map belongs to us.
And Elara knew, with bone-deep certainty, that the chase was only beginning.
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