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The heavy thud of fists slamming against the metal door echoed like war drums.
San stood with his back to it, chest rising and falling in deep, controlled breaths, arms still tingling from the earlier clash. "They're not stopping anytime soon."
Hyme was still gripping his shirt tightly, face pressed against his back, his tail wrapped around San's waist like an anxious ribbon. Wooyoung, flushed and panting, held a small dagger she'd yanked off one of the fallen attackers — she didn't know how to use it, but her grip was firm.
Lyra took one last look outside, her fox eyes scanning the alley. "They'll try to flank. We won't be safe here for long."
San didn't need to hear more.
Without a word, he crouched down and gestured to Hyme. "On my back. We're moving."
"What—now?!" Hyme blinked, but the seriousness in San's eyes made him obey without question. He hopped onto San's back, arms circling his neck, chin pressed to San's shoulder. "You better not drop me."
"You're the one with claws. Try not to rip my shirt."
He turned to Wooyoung. "Hold on to me. Don't let go. No matter what."
Wooyoung nodded. "Let's go."
San threw open the rear door, and they slipped into the narrower service path behind the cat bar — a twisting corridor once used for deliveries, now forgotten. He ran, the sound of boots slapping stone behind them, but Lyra's sharp senses kept guiding them.
"Left here. Then down."
"They're gaining," Wooyoung panted.
"Let them," San grunted, leaping over a broken fence. "They won't get what they want."
As they turned the final corner, San kicked open an old rusted panel in the wall. It groaned, then fell inward — revealing a long-forgotten storage bunker beneath the old alley bridge.
It was cramped and dusty, but it was solid steel and layered in cement — a wartime relic. He'd stumbled upon it months ago while jogging and never thought he'd need it.
They filed in, one by one. San set Hyme down gently, Wooyoung tumbled in, and Lyra sealed the panel just as the enemy reached the top of the alley.
Inside, the air was heavy with silence.
Only the sound of breath, muffled thudding from above, and Hyme's rapid heartbeat filled the space.
"We made it," Lyra whispered. Her tail flicked anxiously as she pressed her back against the wall. "For now."
Hyme looked up at San, still clinging to the edge of his shirt. "You… remembered this place?"
San offered a sheepish grin. "Let's just say… I run past weird places when I'm stressed."
Wooyoung let out a short laugh, then quickly muffled it. "Remind me to follow your jogging routes from now on."
San nodded at Lyra. "You okay?"
She glanced at a scratch running across her arm and wiped the blood away with a huff. "Foxes don't fall that easy."
The mood shifted — from chaos to cautious safety. But even in the silence, tension lingered.
Hyme, still breathless, moved closer to San again. "You didn't hesitate back there."
"Didn't have time to think," San muttered. "Only time to protect."
Outside, the footsteps faded. But something darker began to stir in the distance — another threat, something even Lys hadn't predicted.
A whisper through the alley wind, a flicker of presence — cold, sharp, and uninvited.
Something was hunting them all now.
And it wasn't loyal to Lys.
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