Seyfe's stomach twisted again, this time with a feeling closer to dread. He'd been hoping she'd keep them out of government hands. But the truth was, she'd never had the luxury of a clean escape.
The helicopter hovered, its engine roaring as it adjusted its position, drifting slowly toward them.
Aki didn't falter. She didn't even glance up. She kept moving—smooth and measured—no sign of concern as she neared the residential boundary.
Seyfe, on the other hand, had no intention of staying exposed for long. His pace faltered, as if he'd forgotten his legs didn't have much more to give.
But Aki… she was still a few strides ahead of him now. Her purpose was clear: the baby was her priority. She was always ahead. Always on the move.
"Seyfe!" Aki called back to him, her voice sharp and precise. "Get to the boundary. Now."
He cursed, feeling the weight of both exhaustion and the impending threat of the helicopter's attention.
Another flash of light cut through the dusk, this time blinding him as the helicopter's spotlight swung directly onto them.
Seyfe gritted his teeth, dread knotting in his chest. There was no getting around it now. If Aki had called for help, this was the government's response—and it wasn't going to be pretty. But what was the alternative? They'd be dead in minutes if they tried to fight it.
"Move!" Aki's voice rang through his earpiece, her tone suddenly urgent.
He barely had time to process before the helicopter's spotlight was blinding, the whir of its rotors deafening.
He could feel it now—the government was watching. The hunters were closing in.
They were too close.
But it wasn't time for hesitation.
The whir of the helicopter blades echoed like the approach of a storm, drowning out everything else as Aki calmly raised her arm to signal the craft above. Her mask, gleaming in the spotlight, revealed nothing of her thoughts—just the unyielding precision of someone who had already made their decision.
"Lower the rope," Aki commanded, her voice cutting through the noise like a sharp blade. "Now."
Seyfe barely had time to react before the sound of the helicopter's rotors intensified, and a thick rope was dropped toward Aki. Without hesitation, she grabbed it, effortlessly tying herself to it with the same efficiency she displayed in every move. Her face was hidden behind the mask, but the smoothness of her actions suggested that this wasn't a first-time escape for her.
Seyfe, on the other hand, hesitated. His eyes flicked from the rope to the helicopter hovering above them, its spotlight still trained on him, blinding in its intensity. The gunshots, the threats, the pursuit—it all felt like it had happened in another lifetime, but here he was again, caught between the government and an unknown force that had chased them this far.
He could hear the whine of the helicopter's engines grow louder as the second rope descended toward him, the length of it swaying gently in the wind.
I don't trust them. I don't trust any of this, Seyfe thought, his chest tight with doubt. He glanced at the baby in Aki's arms, its presence a silent reminder of the importance of this moment.
Then, another shot rang out—closer this time.
Seyfe's instincts kicked in.
He couldn't keep running. Not like this.
Dammit.
He grabbed the rope, feeling the weight of it in his hands, then hesitated one last moment. The whirring of the helicopter was deafening, the tension in the air almost unbearable. Aki was already halfway up, the rope ascending steadily as she remained attached, her form becoming smaller against the night sky.
Seyfe was on his own now. Alone, beneath a spotlight, with the only option being a rope that could either be salvation—or a trap.
He exhaled, summoning every ounce of courage.
"Better than dying on the ground," he muttered to himself.
With a deep breath, he tied the rope around his torso and braced himself for the ascent. The moment he did, the helicopter's winch started pulling, slowly lifting him off the ground. His feet left the broken pavement of the Dead City, and he was suspended in the air, rising toward the craft, the wind biting against his skin as the city below him seemed to stretch farther and farther away.
As he rose, he couldn't help but notice Aki already reaching the helicopter's open door, her body fluidly moving with the ropes, no sign of weariness in her demeanor.
He glanced down for a second, the ground growing smaller, then quickly looked away. If he thought about it too long, he'd start second-guessing everything.
I'm not dead yet, he reminded himself.
Finally, the helicopter door was within reach, and with the last burst of strength he could muster, Seyfe pulled himself through, tumbling onto the cold metal floor with a grunt of pain. He barely had time to gather himself before the helicopter shot upward into the night sky, the city now far behind them.
Aki was already seated, the baby secured in her arms.
Seyfe coughed, still catching his breath, but he looked up at her, his gaze hardening beneath his exhaustion. "So… this was your plan all along?"
Aki didn't answer immediately. She adjusted the baby, then nodded slightly in the direction of the pilot.
"Better than being shot in the streets."
Seyfe leaned back, finally allowing himself to rest. The tension in his muscles didn't completely fade, but the relief of being out of immediate danger felt like a distant luxury.
"Yeah, well, I think I've had my fill of flying for the day."
The helicopter continued its ascent, the world below them growing quieter, smaller. But Seyfe couldn't shake the feeling that whatever awaited them at the end of this flight—whatever the government had planned—was just as dangerous as the storm they had just barely escaped.
The helicopter's descent was steady but unnerving, the sharp hum of its engines vibrating through the air as the sprawling complex of the government hall loomed below them. Its walls gleamed under the harsh city lights, a stark contrast to the ruin and decay they'd just escaped. As the helicopter touched down on the rooftop landing pad, the hum of the blades slowly died down, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.
Seyfe climbed out first, the cold metal of the rooftop underfoot as he stepped onto solid ground. He felt a wave of discomfort wash over him as the heavy doors to the government hall opened, revealing several figures waiting nearby. Veilers—some in their standard black, others in more tactical gear—stood in formation, a stark reminder that they weren't exactly "safe" here. He eyed them warily as they moved in, preparing to escort them down to wherever they were meant to be processed.
Aki, unbothered, cradled the baby with practiced ease, its small form nestled against her chest as she approached Seyfe. There was a quiet finality to her movements, a silence that seemed to speak volumes.
"Well, there are things for you to do before they let you go," Aki said, her tone calm, almost dispassionate as she glanced up at the towering building around them. Her eyes flickered briefly toward Seyfe, calculating. "As you were the only civilian, aside from the baby, caught in the Shift, you'll be the one to answer their questions."
Seyfe didn't respond immediately. He couldn't shake the feeling that every step they took deeper into the government hall was a step further into a trap. The gleaming halls, the cold efficiency—nothing about this felt right. He could already feel the eyes of the veilers on him, some assessing, some indifferent.
"They're not just going to let us go, are they?" Seyfe muttered, his voice low as he glanced at Aki, still clutching the baby.
Aki's gaze flickered to the veilers, her expression unreadable beneath her mask. "No. We'll be processed. Questions will be asked. But it's better than being left out there, exposed. You've been in the city long enough to know what happens to strays."
Seyfe frowned, the weight of her words settling like a stone in his gut. He didn't need to ask what she meant. Exposed meant dead. Just like the nameless faces that had become forgotten beneath the Dead City's crumbling streets.
They were led into the building, down long corridors of cold steel and glass, until they reached a large, sterile room. The walls were lined with monitors and terminals, and in the center, a single metal table waited—cold, impersonal.
Aki set the baby down carefully in a makeshift crib near the wall before taking a seat in one of the chairs, her posture still rigid, unwavering. The veilers who had escorted them stood in silence, waiting for instructions.
Seyfe, on the other hand, couldn't shake the discomfort crawling up his spine. He stood near the door, uncertain, his eyes darting between the veilers and the sterile machinery around him.
"You're not going to let them take the baby, are you?" he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and suspicion.
Aki's response was calm, almost distant. "The baby will be taken care of. But there are more immediate concerns right now. You'll have to answer their questions, and your status as a civilian means you have to comply."
A sharp click of boots on the hard floor announced the entrance of a government official. She was dressed in a dark military-style uniform, the insignia on her shoulder glinting in the harsh light. Her cold, calculating eyes swept over Seyfe before landing on Aki and the baby.
"You're the only civilian to have been caught in the Shift," the official said, her voice low but authoritative. "We need information. The baby's presence complicates matters, but you... you're our primary source of information. We'll need to run tests and gather data on your involvement."
Seyfe tensed at her words. Tests? His skin prickled. They weren't just going to ask questions. They were going to poke and prod, trying to extract every last bit of information from him.
"Tests?" he echoed, his voice strained. "What exactly are you planning to do?"
The official didn't answer immediately. Instead, she exchanged a look with one of the veilers, and a few moments later, a medical team entered the room with various instruments, their expressions unreadable.
Aki, who had remained silent, stood slowly, her movements precise. "You should comply," she said quietly, her eyes flicking to Seyfe. "It'll be easier in the long run. I don't know what the government will do, but if you don't cooperate, things will get much worse."
Seyfe felt a knot tighten in his stomach. There was no way out now. No escape. No bargaining. He had to play along, at least for now.
"Fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. "I'll cooperate. But you better be damn sure they don't lay a finger on the kid."
Aki's expression softened for the briefest moment before her mask hid her emotions again. "You have my word."