They hid in an abandoned subway station for the night.
Nate stayed awake, clutching his pistol, mind racing.
Dr. Vale slept fitfully beside him, mumbling in his dreams.
The city above was alive with sirens and flashing lights — they were still hunting.
But something gnawed at Nate harder than fear.
A feeling he couldn't shake.
Someone close to him was lying.
---
By morning, Vale was worse.
Pale. Feverish.
Nate scavenged a first-aid kit from a ruined drugstore, patching him up best he could.
As he tightened a bandage around Vale's arm, the doctor grabbed his wrist.
> "Listen," Vale rasped.
"They won't stop. Not until... not until they have her."
> "Who?" Nate asked.
Vale shook his head weakly.
> "She's not who you think she is..."
Before he could say more, Vale's body seized in a violent spasm.
---
> "Nate!" a familiar voice called out, echoing down the tunnel.
He froze.
It was Eira.
Her white hoodie, her confident stride, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled — all of it was so familiar, so safe.
She knelt beside him, touching his shoulder.
> "Come with me," she said softly.
"They're closing in. We have a safehouse."
But Vale, barely conscious, clawed at Nate's arm, whispering:
> "No... no... don't trust her..."
Nate's mind spun.
Could Vale be right?
Was Eira lying all along?
He stared at her, searching for some crack in her perfect mask.
> "Are you with them?" he asked quietly.
For a split second — just a flicker — her smile tightened.
A crack.
> "Of course not," she said, too quickly.
Nate stood slowly, blocking her from Vale.
> "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me the truth."
Her eyes hardened.
Cold. Calculating.
Not Eira — or at least, not the Eira he thought he knew.
---
> "You were supposed to be easier," she sighed.
"They warned me you'd be stubborn."
Behind her, more figures emerged from the shadows — armed, armored.
Nate's heart slammed against his ribs.
He'd been played.
All this time... she wasn't his ally.
She was the knife already at his throat.
---
> "Come quietly," she said, voice like ice.
"You can't win this."
Nate's grip tightened on the pistol at his hip.
He wasn't a killer.
But maybe he was something else now —
A survivor.
Without a word, he fired.
---
The bullet grazed Eira's arm, sending her stumbling back with a snarl.
Nate grabbed Vale and sprinted down the tunnel.
Gunfire exploded behind them, bullets sparking off rusted rails.
He ducked, weaving through the darkness, heart hammering.
> Bang! Bang! Bang!
Every step was a choice: trust no one.
Every breath was a rebellion: live, no matter the odds.
---
They found an old maintenance ladder and scrambled up into the guts of the city.
Nate burst into the open air — a junk-strewn alley behind a crumbling theater.
He didn't stop running until he was sure they weren't being followed.
Only then did he collapse beside a dumpster, gasping for air.
Vale slumped against the wall, blood staining his shirt.
> "I need to tell you," Vale croaked.
"About the girl... about you..."
Nate leaned closer.
Vale's lips moved.
A secret.
A name.
But before he could understand — Vale's body went still.
Gone.
---
Nate sat there, stunned, as the first rays of dawn clawed over the broken skyline.
Everything he knew was a lie.
Everyone he trusted was a weapon aimed at his heart.
And somewhere, hidden deep within the lies and betrayals...
was the truth they were willing to kill for.
Nate wasn't just a pawn anymore.
He was a threat.
And he was just getting started.
---