Seven of us stood packed on the narrow balcony, breathing hard, the wind still whipping across the open edge. Below, the ground remained clear, no infected shambling through the moonlight, no movement except scattered debris rolling lazily across cracked pavement. Every last one of them was still inside the building above us.

"Give it a minute," Mercury said, voice tight. "Just one."

I stepped to the railing and leaned my forearms on the cold concrete, letting the night air cool the sweat on my neck. The Fallen City stretched out in every direction, broken rooftops jagged under moonlight, empty windows staring like dead eyes, streets carved into silver and shadow. A place that had once breathed with thousands of lives now lay completely still, exhaling dust and silence.

"Has anyone thought about Richard and Jenn?" Mercury asked into the quiet.

No one answered. The others had no thread to those two. They were ghosts who had drifted in and vanished back into the plain.

"Bram." She said my name directly.

"They’re safe," I told her, turning my head just enough to meet her eyes. "I’m certain of it."

She exhaled a long, shaky breath and let the subject drop.

"Okay," Sinn said finally, adjusting his rifle strap. "We go."

I swung my right leg over the railing1, boot finding the first rung of the second, even narrower ladder. The metal felt thinner, older, colder. I started down, hands gripping tight, the city opening up around me in dark layers. Moonlight painted the broken facades on both sides, turning shattered glass into scattered diamonds along the walls. My boots scraped softly with each careful drop.

Weight shifted the ladder above me. I glanced up. May’s legs, familiar curves in the dark, descended with careful precision, her skirt fluttering once in the wind.

I hit the ground first. Boots met concrete with a solid thud. I scanned instantly. Left, right, behind, every shadow, every alley mouth. Clear. Not a single infected in sight.

May dropped the last few feet. I caught her mid-air, hands locking around her waist, her body pressing fully against mine for one suspended second. Her feet found the ground but she didn’t step back. Her hands slid up around my neck, fingers threading into my hair. We kissed, hard, urgent, tasting of dust and adrenaline. The last kiss in the Fallen City. Whatever this place had taken from us, it had given us that.

"Bram." Harmione’s voice floated down from above.

She was frozen halfway down the ladder, one boot hovering, staring at the remaining drop with wide eyes. The climb up had been terror. The descent was something else entirely, different math, different fear.

I climbed back up two rungs fast, reached her, and wrapped one arm around her waist. "I’ve got you."

She let go. I lifted her down in one smooth motion, muscles burning as her weight settled against me. Her boots touched ground and she exhaled, whispering, "Thank you," against my shoulder.

Above us, the ladder vibrated steadily. The rest of the team descended in sequence without discussion, Sherry next, then Mercury gripping each rung like it might betray her, Sinn moving with deliberate slowness, Code sliding down almost carelessly, his long hair trailing behind him like a dark banner.

I stayed planted on the ground, catching each of them as needed, eyes flicking constantly between the team and the surrounding streets. The building we had just escaped was roaring now. Below, the ground stayed clear.

We ran.

I grabbed Mercury’s hand the second our boots hit the street, her palm slick with fear-sweat, fingers locking tight around mine. She was the one I was least sure of. The distance to the car stretched longer than it had looked from the wall, shattered asphalt, scattered debris, moonlight painting everything in cold, deceptive silver. Our feet pounded hard. Lungs burned. The city loomed dark and jagged around us, broken windows and leaning facades watching like silent witnesses.

No one looked back. Looking back was the kind of mistake that stole the half-second you needed to stay alive.

Sherry ran at the front, elbows pumping. May stayed glued to her side, skirt snapping against her thighs with every stride. Harmione’s flames kept flickering on and off at her fingertips, lighting tiny bursts of orange across the ground. Sinn brought up the rear with his rifle, boots slamming. Code moved like a shadow, long hair streaming, stride smooth and effortless, barely breathing harder than if he were walking.

We reached the car in a desperate cluster. Everyone doubled over immediately, hands on knees, chests heaving, mouths open, sweat flying off foreheads in tiny glittering drops. Mercury’s grip on my hand trembled violently. Only Code stood straight, breathing slow and even through his nose like he’d taken a casual stroll.

"That stupid son of a bitch," Sinn growled, staring at the remaining armored vehicle. Owen had never lost the keys. He’d been palming them the entire time, waiting for the perfect moment to screw everyone.

Mercury started laughing. Not a small laugh. The full, wild, unguarded kind that came from the chest and shook her whole body. She bent forward, hands still on her knees, tears mixing with the sweat on her face. "I can’t believe I just climbed down three floors," she gasped between breaths. "Three fucking floors."

Sinn kicked the dirt hard, sending a spray of gravel rattling against the car’s tire.

The doors hung open. Richard and Jenn were long gone, just as I’d expected. The outside had one rule, and they had followed it without hesitation. I couldn’t blame them.

"The specimen," Sinn remembered, voice rough.

We moved to the rear. Sinn grabbed the boot handle and yanked it open with a heavy metallic creak.

The girl was still there. Richard’s tape remained brutally tight around her wrists and ankles, digging into pale skin. Her eyes were open now—bright, piercing blue—blinking rapidly as the sedative burned off. She looked between every face, pupils contracting in the moonlight. Her head jerked slightly, trying to speak. The thick strip of tape across her mouth stretched and relaxed with every muffled attempt, the words trapped behind it.

"It wants to bite someone," Sinn said flatly.

"She’s trying to say something," Harmione countered, stepping closer.

"Same thing," Sinn replied, and let out a short, bitter laugh.

I leaned in. Those blue eyes locked onto mine. Not unfocused. Not feral. They moved with deliberate rhythm, blinking in a specific pattern, reading us, communicating something the rest of the situation didn’t explain. A sharp, aware intelligence stared back.

Sinn slammed the boot shut with a heavy thud, cutting her off.

"Let’s go," he said, already moving toward the driver’s side.

I stared at the closed trunk a second longer than I should have, the image of those blinking eyes burning behind my own.

What were you trying to say?

"Bram," Sinn called sharply.

I turned and slid into the car, the door slamming behind me with finality. The engine growled to life as the last of us piled in, tires already biting gravel before the doors were fully shut. The Fallen City began to shrink in the rearview, swallowed by moonlight and dust.