The silence inside the pumping station was nearly unbearable.
Each of Elias's breaths seemed to echo through the structure, breaking the oppressive stillness. He stared at the reinforced steel door ahead, fully aware that at any moment it could be the last barrier protecting them. The hybrid creatures that had followed their trail were still outside, hammering against the door with terrifying persistence.
But what kept them alive, for now, was fragility.
The remaining humans, the mercenaries, the factions — all still bowed to fear on some level.
Elias knew fear could never be avoided — only controlled.
---
"We need to get out of here," Viktor Hale said, his voice rough, his face slick with sweat and exhaustion.
Elias didn't answer.
He simply glanced at Hale, then at Grimm and Ash, who remained tense, their ears perked up, alert to every sound.
The silence crushed them like a heavy weight.
They were safe temporarily — but the pumping station would not protect them forever.
With a brief hand motion, Elias signaled them to get ready to move.
Hale didn't argue.
He understood there was no time to waste.
They needed to reach the surface — and preferably before the creatures reached them. There was a supposed escape plan, but like everything else in this ruined world, it was a gamble.
---
The corridors of the station were damp.
The smell of mold and rot mixed with rust and metal corrosion.
Silence thickened around them, making even their careful footsteps sound like alarms.
Grimm and Ash led the way.
Their muscular forms moved with precision, sniffing the air, scanning for threats.
Elias and Hale followed closely, every nerve on edge.
The sensation of being hunted clung to them like a second skin.
---
Finally, Hale broke the silence.
"If we can reach the reservoir, there's an emergency hatch," he said, breathing heavily. "If we move fast enough, we can get out."
Elias glanced at him, serious.
He knew it was possible — but it was still a gamble with high odds against them.
"'If'," Elias muttered. "Nothing's certain anymore."
Hale just nodded grimly.
He knew Elias was right — but acknowledging it wouldn't save them.
They pressed forward.
---
The path to the reservoir was longer and more complicated than they'd anticipated.
Every corridor brought more shadows, more darkness.
The pumping station was filled with ancient ruins and twisted metal.
Several times, Elias had to clear debris from the paths while Grimm and Ash advanced cautiously.
It felt like the very walls were closing in.
---
As they moved, Hale spoke again — his voice lower, almost hesitant.
"During the original project... there was something that was never activated. A contingency plan."
Elias turned to him, suspicion flashing in his eyes.
"What are you talking about?" Elias asked, voice sharp.
"A biological weapon. Not to kill," Hale continued carefully. "To neutralize... immortality."
Those words made Elias stop dead.
Even Grimm and Ash seemed to sense the shift.
---
"You're saying there's a way to undo this?" Elias demanded.
Hale nodded slowly.
"In theory. It was too dangerous to test. Locked away."
"Where?" Elias's voice was a low growl.
"At a lab near the coast," Hale said. "Near the White Dawn's stronghold."
Of course.
Nothing was ever easy.
---
Elias processed the information in silence.
The idea of reclaiming mortality stabbed at him.
A dream he'd long ago buried under survival instincts.
If that weapon existed...
Maybe there was hope.
But between him and hope stretched hundreds of kilometers, ruthless enemies, and abominations that should never have existed.
---
A distant explosion shattered his thoughts.
The walls groaned, ancient metal protesting.
They picked up the pace, instincts screaming at them to move faster.
The reservoir was close now.
The stagnant, acrid smell of old water filled the tunnels.
---
Grimm barked sharply.
Ash froze, ears swiveling.
Elias raised his fist, halting the group.
Something moved up ahead.
Multiple footsteps.
Fast.
Coordinated.
Not creatures.
Men.
---
"They found us," Hale muttered grimly.
"The White Dawn," Elias said bitterly.
---
Without hesitation, Elias led the group into a side chamber.
Old machinery and debris provided crude cover.
Grimm and Ash crouched low, muscles coiled, ready to strike.
The stomp of boots grew louder.
The enemy was closing in.
---
For the first time in a long while, Elias felt adrenaline surge through his veins.
Not fear.
Focus.
The certainty that he would fight until his last breath.
---
The first figure emerged in the hallway.
Elias fired.
A clean shot.
The invader dropped silently.
But more came.
Many more.
Heavily armed.
---
The firefight was brutal.
Improvised grenades burst against crumbling walls.
Bullets tore through the stagnant air.
Grimm lunged at one attacker, bringing him down in a spray of blood.
Ash struck another, ripping through the man's calf and pulling him down screaming.
Elias moved like a wraith, every shot deliberate and deadly.
Hale covered the flanks, firing with grim precision.
---
But numbers mattered.
And they were vastly outnumbered.
---
"We need to move!" Hale barked.
Elias spotted a side passage — narrow, half-blocked, but viable.
He signaled quickly.
Grimm and Ash darted through first.
Hale followed.
Elias backed out last, covering their retreat.
---
They raced up a cramped staircase, metal creaking underfoot.
Gunfire and shouts echoed behind them.
The smell of blood, sweat, and gunpowder filled the air.
Every step toward the surface felt heavier.
---
Finally — light.
Pale and gray, but light nonetheless.
Freedom.
Or so they thought.
---
They forced open a rusted hatch.
Burst into the open air.
The cold wind slapped their faces.
Clouds churned overhead, heavy and dark.
For a brief second, they allowed themselves to hope.
And then —
They saw them.
---
Surrounding them were dozens of armed figures.
Gray uniforms.
Helmets gleaming under the sickly light.
On their arms, the unmistakable emblem: a white sun on black.
The White Dawn had been waiting.
---
Elias froze, calculating.
Grimm and Ash growled low, ready to spring.
Hale's hand hovered near his sidearm.
No words were exchanged.
Only the certainty of battle.
---
The enemy commander, a tall woman in polished armor, stepped forward.
She pulled back her helmet, revealing sharp features and cold blue eyes.
"You're coming with us, Thorne," she said, her voice carrying over the dead wind.
Elias didn't lower his rifle.
He said nothing.
Instead, he measured the distance.
Counted possible escape routes.
Calculated survival odds.
They weren't good.
---
Behind him, Grimm shifted.
Ash snarled.
Elias exhaled slowly.
He had survived worse.
He could survive this.
---
But then, from the edge of the crowd, another figure emerged.
One he recognized immediately.
A man he had believed long dead.
A man who should have been buried with the old world.
Elias's blood turned to ice.
---
The past had caught up to him.
And it was carrying weapons.