The tunnels felt alive.
Every drip of water, every echo of our boots on the wet concrete, every shifting shadow on the walls felt like a breath, a whisper, a heartbeat.
I kept moving, my flashlight sweeping the darkness ahead, illuminating the streaks of rust and the faded graffiti that crawled along the curved walls like veins. Anthony was beside me, silent, his eyes narrowed, his hand hovering near his sidearm.
We reached a split in the tunnel, the path forking left and right into two identical corridors of dark, dripping stone.
We stopped.
Anthony looked at me, and I could see the tension in the set of his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw.
"We split?" he asked quietly.
I hesitated for a moment before responding.
"He's here somewhere," I said, my voice low. "And without his tech, he's nothing but a rat in a cage."
Anthony nodded once, hard. "We can handle him one-on-one if we need to. We'll signal if we find him."
