Fred didn't move.
The tunnel felt colder, tighter, like the walls were leaning in.
Adrian's smirk widened. Marcus's gun gleamed under the flickering light.
Fred's blade tilted ever so slightly.
Toward Adrian.
Marcus noticed. He barked a laugh. "Smart kid."
Fred lunged—not at Adrian, not at Marcus—but upward. His blade slashed through the rotten metal of a dangling cable overhead.
Sparks exploded into the air like a shower of tiny comets, blinding everyone for a precious second.
Fred ran.
Not toward Adrian.
Not toward Marcus.
But into the tunnels.
---
Chaos erupted behind him.
Gunshots.
Curses.
The shriek of metal on stone.
Fred didn't look back.
His heart pounded in his ears as he weaved through the forgotten tunnels, his mind racing faster than his legs.
He hadn't chosen either side.
He had chosen himself.
And in this game of predators, that made him the most dangerous of all.
---
After what felt like hours, Fred stumbled into a narrower passage, nearly hidden behind a collapsed wall.
A hand shot out from the darkness, grabbing him by the collar.
He reacted instantly, driving his elbow into the figure's ribs.
A grunt of pain—and a voice, low and sharp:
"Relax. I'm not here to kill you."
The figure stepped back, hands raised.
A woman, her hair a tangled mess of dark curls, her green eyes wary but calculating.
Clara Reyes.
Fred froze.
He had found her—or rather, she had found him.
---
Clara pulled a small lantern from her coat, casting a soft glow over the cramped space.
"You're not with Velmont," she said, more a statement than a question.
Fred shook his head.
"And not with Thorne either."
Fred hesitated, then nodded.
A slow smile spread across her lips. "Good. Maybe you're smarter than you look."
Fred didn't smile back. His instincts screamed that Clara was as dangerous as the other two—maybe more.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
Clara's eyes darkened.
"Because the people you're dealing with… they're just the beginning. There's something much worse coming. And unless you want to end up like the others..."
She leaned in, her breath cold against his ear.
"...you'll need me."
---
Fred stared at her.
This was it—the crossroads he had been racing toward without realizing it.
He could trust her.
Or he could walk away.
But deep down, he knew...
The road ahead was death, either way.
The only difference was whether he faced it alone—or with someone who might just be better at surviving it than he was.
He extended his hand, slow and deliberate.
"Deal."
Clara's hand slid into his, firm and cold.
And in that moment, a silent pact was sealed—one that would either save them both…
Or damn them forever.
---