Ren's blood ran cold. The man's words were a physical weight, heavier than the collapsing city around them. He had just traded one prison for another. The Brute—he looked like a Jax—was a simpler kind of warden than the Alphas, but no less absolute.
The other Gammas, moments ago paralyzed by fear, now looked at Ren with a predatory gleam. He was their key. Their tool. Their path to survival. Their gazes were a leash, and Jax held the end of it.
"Move," Jax growled, gesturing with his pipe toward the newly opened passage. "You walk in front."
Ren's mind raced, calculating odds, angles, and escape routes. He was still feeling the phantom jitters of [System Lag]. His head ached. A direct confrontation was impossible; Jax would break him in half. For now, he had to play the part.
He gave a sullen nod and stepped through the gate, the group of survivors falling in behind him like a pack of hyenas guarding a captured meal. The tunnel ahead was dark and dripping, the air thick with the smell of decay.
They treated him as expected. He was poked with the pipe when he moved too slowly, ordered to inspect every dark corner, and interrogated about every strange noise. He was their Aberration detector, their master key, their slave. The irony was so bitter it was almost comical.
He let them believe they were in control. All the while, his eyes were scanning, not for monsters, but for opportunities. He was a technician. He knew that every system had a breaking point. Jax and his little gang were just another faulty machine.
He found it in the next junction. It was a narrow chokepoint where the tunnel passed under a massive, sparking power regulator hanging from the ceiling by a single, groaning support strut. The air around it buzzed with leaking energy. It was a death trap waiting for a trigger.
It was perfect.
Just as he was filing the location away in his mental map, the sound returned. Faint, but unmistakable. The distorted lullaby.
The survivors froze. The wiry woman gasped, "It's that sound again."
Jax's bravado faltered for a second. He shoved Ren hard from behind. "You! Freak! What is that thing? Is it hunting us?"
Ren stumbled, catching himself before he fell. He couldn't lie. But the truth, when aimed correctly, was the sharpest weapon he had.
"Yes," he said, his voice level. "It's an Aberration. A Mimic. It hunts by sound." He looked pointedly at Jax. "And you've been making a lot of noise."
Jax's face flushed with anger, then paled with fear. "So what do we do?"
This was his moment. Ren pointed back toward the junction with the sparking regulator. "We set a trap. It's slow until it attacks. We can lure it into that chokepoint. The space is narrow. It won't be able to maneuver. We can ambush it there."
Jax's eyes lit up. He saw a chance to reassert his dominance, to be the hero who smashes the monster. He saw his own strength as the solution. He was predictable. A fool.
"Right," Jax said, a confident smirk returning to his face. "Good thinking, freak. You're not totally useless." He turned to the others. "You heard him! We move, now! We'll hide on either side of the tunnel and crush it when it comes through!"
He herded his new followers into position, their faces a mix of terror and grim resolve. When they were hidden, he turned back to Ren.
"You're the bait. Go make a noise."
Ren nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Okay."
He walked back and stood a few meters from the chokepoint, directly in the Mimic's path. Jax and the others were hidden in alcoves just past the sparking, heavy regulator. The plan was for Ren to draw the monster through the trap, where they would spring their ambush.
The lullaby was getting closer, a chilling, off-key melody that promised a horrifying death.
Ren took a deep breath. He ignored the approaching monster. He ignored the survivors waiting in ambush. He looked up at the groaning support strut holding tons of volatile machinery directly above his new masters.
His eyes unfocused. The shimmering threads of the Covenant appeared, brilliant against the gloom. The support strut's weave was heavily damaged, its light flickering erratically. It was on the verge of collapse.
His plan was never to trap the monster.
He reached out with his mind, a cold, vicious calm settling over him. He wasn't just a survivor anymore. He was a predator.
As the distorted lullaby echoed right around the corner, he took hold of the single, frayed thread holding the regulator in place.
And began to pull.