The flashlight Kael shoved into Ashfall's hand felt cold and heavy, its weak beam cutting into the endless dark of the tunnel like a blade too dull to matter. The group moved in silence, boots crunching faintly over frozen grit, their shadows stretching across the tunnel walls in strange, jittering patterns. The only voices belonged to the girl at the front—the one who never spoke to anyone but Kael—her whispers too quiet for Ashfall to understand, and Kael's calm replies. They carried themselves as if the rest of the group wasn't even there.
Ashfall trailed behind, the silence gnawing at him, irritating him more than the ache in his legs or the lingering tightness in his chest from when the skyscraper collapsed above him. He wanted noise. He wanted something human. Instead, all he had was the memory of snow falling through the hole above, light bleeding into the ruin, and the laughter—his own laughter—that he still wasn't sure had stopped.
He clicked his tongue and drifted closer to one of the others. A tall boy, shoulders stiff, staring straight ahead as if walking a line only he could see. Ashfall tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
The boy spun, twitching like a startled animal, his eyes flicking across Ashfall's face before darting away. He gave no words, no expression, just turned back and kept moving as though nothing had happened.
Ashfall frowned. "Alright. Friendly bunch," he muttered under his breath.
He tried again with the next one, a younger man whose backpack looked heavier than his frame could handle. No response. Not even a glance. Ashfall felt his jaw tighten. He moved down the line, one by one, looking for the smallest crack in their silence. The only one who responded was the older man with streaks of gray in his hair. Even then, it wasn't much.
"How long have you been down here?" Ashfall asked quietly, keeping his voice low but not whispering. "Days? Weeks? I can't tell anymore myself."
The man's eyes flicked toward him for half a second. A slight shake of the head. "You mean no?" Ashfall pressed. "Or no idea?"
Another shake, this time almost impatient. Ashfall exhaled sharply through his nose. "Great... it's like talking to ghosts in movies..."
He gave up on subtlety and tried yes-or-no questions. "Have you seen other groups? Any bases nearby? Do you even remember how you got here?"
Each time, the old man responded with either the tiniest nod or another infuriating shake of his head. No details or explanation.
Ashfall's patience thinned until he felt it snapping like a frayed wire. He ground his teeth, then forced himself onward to the last one; the girl he recognized, the one with the perfect hair and expensive attitude, the one who had complained back during selection about how powerful her father was. He almost skipped her, but the silence was worse than her arrogance.
Ashfall forced himself to walk alongside her, though every step felt like a mistake. He cleared his throat.
"So," he muttered, "how long have you been down here?"
The girl's head snapped toward him, almost surprised that someone had spoken to her. "Oh… well, not that long, really. I mean, I've been in worse places. Back home we had this massive house in Sector Four... you should've seen it. Three stories, servants on every floor. My father always said—"
Ashfall groaned under his breath. "Of course he did."
She didn't notice. She was already running with the memory. "We had these parties every other week, and the food… gods, the food was amazing~. Roasted duck, wine from the inner sectors. I used to stand on the balcony and look over the whole city. The view was just—" She paused, her lips curling in a proud little smile, as if she could still see it.
Ashfall squeezed the flashlight until his knuckles ached. "Fascinating," he said dryly. "I asked how long you've been down here. Not for a tour of your mansion."
"Oh," she stammered, blinking rapidly. "Well… I don't really know. Days, maybe? Time feels strange here. Anyway, like I was saying, we had this one chandelier in the dining hall. Massive crystal, imported from Sector Two. The servants had to polish it for hours, but it sparkled like starlight when the guests arrived. Everyone who came over said it was the most beautiful—"
"Yeah," Ashfall cut in, his voice sharp. "Sounds great. Must've been tough, living in paradise while the rest of us ate scraps off the ground."
Her smile faltered, but only for a moment. "It wasn't perfect," she said defensively. "I mean, there were problems too, but… I suppose my childhood was nicer than most. My father always promised he'd move us closer to Sector One someday."
Ashfall's jaw tightened. "Then why the hell were you stuck in Sector Four?" he asked, his voice like a knife. "If he had so much influence, why weren't you sipping wine in Sector Two, or sitting pretty in Zero with the rest of the gods?"
The words hit her harder than he expected. She froze mid-step, her mouth half-open, eyes wide, but no sound came out. Her proud little stories died instantly on her lips.
Ashfall smirked bitterly and pulled away, muttering to himself, "Thought so."
She didn't say another word. Neither did he. They drifted apart in the group, keeping as much distance as possible while still walking the same path.
For a while, there was nothing but the shuffle of boots, the drip of water echoing from somewhere ahead, and the weak beam of his flashlight swaying across cracked tunnel walls. His head felt heavy, and the silence, once again, began to grind into him.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the tunnel ahead began to brighten. A faint glow shimmered around a curve, pale and unnatural against the dark stone. Ashfall slowed his steps, squinting.
Kael suddenly stopped and turned, his face calm but firm. "Hold here," he said, raising a hand. "We'll go ahead."
The whispering girl was already at his side, as if she'd been waiting for the command.
Kael's eyes shifted to Ashfall. "Are you combat-ready?"
Ashfall let out a low laugh. "You're asking now? After dragging me through the dark with your little army of mutes?" He raised his pistol slightly, the silencer glinting faintly in the flashlight beam. "Yeah. I can fight."
"Good," Kael said simply. "Then you hold the line. Protect the others until we return."
Ashfall blinked at him, incredulous. "You've known me for what... two hours? And you're ready to trust me with babysitting your whole crew? Either you're insane, or you really don't care what happens to them."
Kael only smiled faintly, as if the comment hadn't even touched him. He turned, stepping into the growing light, the quiet girl trailing him like a shadow.
The rest of the group sat down without protest, backs against the tunnel wall, their faces as blank as ever. Ashfall lingered, tapping his pistol against his thigh, listening.
The faint glow ahead brightened, and with it came sound—low voices at first, muffled. Then sharper, louder. A scrape of metal. The unmistakable clatter of a rifle being drawn.
Gunfire erupted—short bursts, the echo ripping through the tunnel walls, followed by the quieter thuds of suppressed pistols.
Ashfall's muscles tensed instantly. He drew his own weapon, raising it toward the light, every instinct screaming at him to move forward. He stepped closer, slow but steady, ready to pull the trigger at the first figure that came out of the glow. Then four hands grabbed him at once.
He spun, furious, only to see four of the silent ones, their eyes wide, faces twisted in something that almost looked like fear. They weren't attacking him. They were stopping him.
"Don't go," one of them whispered, their voice hoarse, like unused vocal cords were tearing themselves awake.
"Stay," another said, clutching at his arm.
Ashfall froze, staring at them. For the first time, they weren't silent. For the first time, their faces were alive with emotion and that emotion was dread.
Behind them, the girl with the family name leaned against the wall, rolling her eyes, looking annoyed rather than afraid.
Ashfall looked at the four clinging to him, then at the glow around the bend where the gunfire still echoed, then back at them.
He felt the realization drop into him like ice water. He hadn't stumbled into allies. He hadn't stumbled into survivors. He had walked straight into something else entirely.
Something rotten. Something dangerous. And now he was stuck in the middle of it.