The world above was no longer safe.
Not from the silver-eyed Hosts marching in quiet synchronicity.
Not from the god-mind whispering through the air like static and scripture.
Not from the feeling that humanity had already been claimed, whether they knew it or not.
So the last free humans went downward.
Into the earth.
Into rusted tunnels where his voice could not reach so easily.
Down into the dark.
The Last Refuge
The abandoned subway station stretched endlessly beneath the dead city—its walls cracked, its lights gutted, its rails rusted into graves. Yet for those who fled the synchronized awakening, it had become sanctuary.
Analog radios hummed weak static.
Lanterns flickered with battery-starved courage.
Concrete dripped with condensation like a slow, patient heartbeat.
