The shattered glass had barely stopped raining before they pushed forward, instincts screaming that staying in one place too long was no longer an option.
The group moved into an old subway tunnel.
The tunnel was dark, filled with the scent of rust and mold. Faded maps lined the crumbling walls, their ink long bled into obscurity. They walked in silence, each footstep echoing off the hollow stone like a heartbeat in a grave.
Jake walked ahead with Arya, weapons drawn. Olivia leaned heavily on Zack. Ellie stayed close to the rear, her eyes darting constantly over her shoulder.
Ambrose lagged behind.
Arya noticed. So, she stopped for a while until Ambrose reached her.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
He didn't respond at first. Then, with a strained voice, he said, "That wasn't me."
She stopped walking. "Ambrose —"
"That thing on the screen," he snapped, his voice lower now. "That version of me. It's a lie."
