The morning came pale and quiet — sunlight spilling through the fractured windows of the old library, turning dust into drifting gold.
24 woke first, as always. He sat against the cracked wall, sharpening one of his blades with slow, measured strokes. Each scrape of metal was steady, rhythmic — the sound of a man who never let himself grow comfortable.
Lu stirred beside the fire pit, her blanket drawn close against the chill. "You sleep at all?"
24 didn't look up. "Long enough."
She smirked faintly. "You say that every time."
He didn't answer — just tested the blade's edge with his thumb, then set it down.
Outside, the settlement had already begun to move. Smoke rose from cooking fires; voices drifted between the broken walls. The smell of roasting roots and wet metal filled the air. It almost felt like peace.
Almost.
They were finishing a shared bowl of stew when a man approached — the same mechanic who'd greeted them the day before, his hands still blackened with grease.
"Heard you two are heading out soon," he said.
"If you're going west, might want to take the river trail instead of the ridge."
24 studied him. "Why's that?"
The man lowered his voice, glancing around before leaning closer.
"Because the ridge is watched. EGI drones sweep it every night. But the river trail… leads past something else."
Lu frowned. "Something else?"
"A stronghold. Resistance. They've been hiding in the ruins of an old military depot — two days' walk from here if you keep to the lowlands. Not EGI. These folks fight them."
24's gaze sharpened. "You sure?"
The man nodded. "Sure as anything. They trade sometimes — medical supplies, fuel cells, old parts. They don't cause trouble unless you bring it."
Lu leaned back, thoughtful. "A resistance base…"
"Don't get your hopes up," the man warned. "They don't take strangers kindly. But if you're looking to disappear, that's where you do it."
He gave a small nod, then turned back toward his work, leaving the two alone in the dim light.
Lu broke the silence first. "We could go there," she said. "Hide for a while.
If they're against EGI, maybe they won't look too close."
24 glanced out the window, watching the smoke drift upward into the pale sky.
"Hiding in plain sight," he murmured.
"Exactly."
He thought for a long moment. His instincts screamed against it — too many unknowns, too many ways it could go wrong. But the badlands were thinning. The EGI outposts were spreading faster than he'd expected. Sooner or later, their luck would run out.
"Two days, you said," he finally said, standing and sheathing his blade.
"Pack light. We leave before dusk."
Lu nodded, already rolling her blanket. "You think they'll let us in?"
"They don't need to," he said. "We're not joining them."
"Then why go?"
24 met her eyes — calm, cold, calculating.
"Because the best place to disappear," he said,
"is where everyone's too busy fighting to look for ghosts."
That evening, as the sun slipped below the broken skyline, they left the city quietly.
No farewells. No explanations.
Edda watched them from her place by the fire, arms crossed, face unreadable.
She said nothing — just gave a small nod when 24 looked her way.
And then they were gone, moving down the cracked road toward the west —
two shadows fading into the dying light, toward the last stronghold of those still fighting the empire that made him.