The tunnels were older than the war itself, their walls lined with crumbling brick and rusted steel beams. The air was thick with dust and decay, the scent of stagnant water clinging to every surface. Fireteam Specter moved in silence, their footsteps muffled against the damp concrete.

Wren led the way, her rifle slung across her chest, moving with the confidence of someone who had navigated these tunnels before. Behind her, Velkan walked with his hand on his sidearm, every muscle tense. Ghost followed just a step behind, eyes scanning every shadow, every exposed pipe, every dark corner that could be hiding an ambush.

Doc was in the middle of the group, supporting Kane as best he could. Kane was awake now—but barely. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, and every step was a battle against his own body. But he was still moving. That was all that mattered.

The only sound was the occasional drip of water from somewhere above.

Ghost spoke first, her voice low. "How much farther?"

"Depends," Wren answered, glancing back. "There's a checkpoint ahead—old security doors that should still be locked. If we can force them open, we're close."

Velkan exhaled sharply. "And if we can't?"

Wren didn't hesitate. "Then we find another way."

Ghost gave a humorless chuckle. "Of course."

The group pressed forward, the tunnel curving slightly before widening into a larger chamber. And there it was—the checkpoint. A massive set of steel doors, reinforced with thick metal plating, rusted over but still intact. The remnants of an old security terminal sat nearby, its screen shattered, wires hanging loose from its base.

Velkan approached the door, running a gloved hand over the cold metal. "This thing isn't moving without power."

Wren knelt beside the terminal, inspecting the exposed wiring. "We might not need power. If the locking mechanisms have degraded over time, we can force it."

Doc frowned. "And if they haven't?"

"Then we blow it open," Wren said simply.

Kane let out a weak chuckle. "Subtle."

Ghost stepped forward, scanning the walls. "Wait." She reached out, running her fingers along a faded emblem near the doorframe. It was barely visible under the grime, but the design was unmistakable—a sigil from before the war, belonging to the old government.

Ghost looked back at Wren. "You said these tunnels were used for evacuations?"

Wren nodded.

Ghost's eyes darkened. "Then we're not the only ones who know about them."

Velkan stiffened, immediately on alert. His hand went to his pistol, and Ghost raised her rifle.

Then they heard it—a distant sound, deep within the tunnel behind them.

Footsteps. Heavy. Multiple.

And then, a voice. Cold. Precise. Amused.

"Well, well. Look what we have here."

Velkan turned sharply, his heart pounding. They weren't alone anymore.

Velkan didn't hesitate—his pistol was already raised before his brain could process the full weight of the situation. Ghost moved just as fast, taking position beside him, her rifle trained on the darkness behind them.

The voice had come from somewhere beyond the last turn in the tunnel, but the acoustics made it impossible to tell exactly how many were coming. The steady clank of boots against damp concrete echoed through the space, slow and deliberate.

Whoever was approaching wasn't in a hurry.

Wren's fingers twitched toward her rifle, but she didn't move otherwise. Kane let out a weak breath, barely able to lift his head, while Doc shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on him. If they had to run, Kane wouldn't make it far.

Velkan's pulse pounded in his ears. Think. There was no cover, no high ground—just an open tunnel with nowhere to go but forward or back. And the checkpoint door was still locked.

We need time.

"Ghost," he said under his breath.

"I know," she murmured, her voice tight.

The footsteps slowed, stopping just before the bend. A deliberate pause. Then, the voice came again, smooth and condescending.

"Velkan. Ghost. Doc. And Wren, too. You've been busy."

The blood in Velkan's veins turned to ice. They know us.

Ghost's grip on her rifle tightened. "Who the hell are we talking to?"

There was a short, dry chuckle. Then, the figure stepped into view.

Tall, lean, and dressed in a jet-black combat uniform, the man exuded a quiet confidence that was far more dangerous than brute strength. His blond hair was cropped short, his face angular, his features sharp and foxlike. But it was his eyes that sent a shiver down Velkan's spine.

They were empty. Cold. Amused.

And familiar.

Ghost whispered a curse under her breath. "Smiling Demons."

Velkan's stomach twisted. He'd known it the second he saw the insignia on the man's shoulder—a grinning skull with hollow, laughing eyes.

The Dictator's personal death squad.

The man gave them a slow, deliberate nod. "Commander Ragos sends his regards."

Wren muttered something under her breath, her expression darkening.

Doc shot Velkan a glance. "Options?" he asked quietly.

"Bad ones," Velkan admitted.

The Smiling Demon smiled—a small, knowing smirk. He wasn't alone. The shadows behind him shifted, revealing three more soldiers, each one clad in the same dark tactical gear, their weapons held loosely but ready.

Outnumbered. Outgunned.

And Kane was in no condition to fight.

Velkan adjusted his grip on his pistol, mind racing. They had to move. Now.

But then the Demon spoke again.

"I'll give you one chance," he said smoothly. "Surrender. Come quietly. And I promise... we'll make it quick."

The way he said it sent a chill through Velkan's spine. The implication was clear—resist, and they'd make them suffer.

Ghost exhaled, barely above a whisper. "Velkan."

"I know," Velkan murmured.

There was no way out. No easy solution.

But easy wasn't their style.

Velkan's grip tightened around his pistol. He glanced at Wren, who met his gaze with a silent understanding. Then at Ghost, who gave the barest nod.

They weren't going down without a fight.

Velkan inhaled deeply, his muscles tensing. Then, with one swift motion—

He pulled the trigger.

The gunshot roared through the tunnel, the muzzle flash briefly illuminating the darkness. Velkan had aimed straight for the Smiling Demon's head, but he was already moving—too fast, too precise. The bullet whizzed past his cheek, cutting a thin line across his skin. The smirk never left his face.

Then the tunnel exploded into chaos.

Ghost was already firing, her rifle spitting controlled bursts at the three other operatives behind the leader. Wren ducked behind a rusted maintenance panel, pulling the pin from a flashbang and hurling it down the corridor.

Bang!

The concussive blast sent dust and debris flying, the confined space amplifying the shockwave. Velkan used the moment of disorientation to grab Kane and haul him backward toward the checkpoint door.

"Doc! Get that damn door open!"

Doc was already on it, slamming his hands against the corroded security panel, prying open a mess of tangled wires. "I just need—a second!"

They didn't have a second.

The Smiling Demons recovered too fast. The leader—still smiling—tilted his head as he lifted his rifle. Pop-pop-pop. His shots were deliberate, controlled, meant to pin them down. Velkan barely managed to push Kane behind cover as rounds sparks off the concrete walls.

Ghost snarled and fired again, this time catching one of the Demons in the shoulder. The man grunted, staggering back, but didn't fall. Armor.

Wren, cursing under her breath, switched tactics—she went low, sprinting forward, a knife glinting in her hand. She ducked under a burst of gunfire, slid across the damp floor, and drove her blade up into the ribs of the nearest enemy.

The man gasped, jerking, before she twisted the knife.

One down.

But it wasn't enough.

The leader turned his rifle on her.

"Wren, move!" Velkan shouted.

Too late.

The Smiling Demon fired.

The bullet tore through Wren's side.

She hit the ground hard, blood spilling across the floor.

Velkan didn't have time to think. He surged forward, gun raised, but the Demon was already moving, already reloading with infuriating calmness.

Then—

The door behind them groaned.

"Got it!" Doc shouted. "Move!"

Velkan didn't hesitate. He grabbed Kane, hoisted him onto his shoulder despite the pain it sent through his own body, and sprinted through the now-partially open door. Ghost and Doc covered them, laying down suppressive fire as they dragged Wren behind them.

The Smiling Demon watched them go, his smirk never wavering.

Even as the door slammed shut between them, sealing them in the tunnels beyond, his voice echoed through the metal.

"Run as much as you like, Specter."

"We'll find you."

The clang of the steel door slamming shut echoed through the tunnel, followed by the heavy breathing of Fireteam Specter. They had seconds. Maybe less.

Velkan dropped Kane as gently as he could, his hands already moving to help Doc press down on Wren's wound. Blood gushed between his fingers.

"Shit—stay with me, Wren," Doc muttered, his voice taut with urgency. "I need pressure on this, now!"

Ghost fell to one knee beside them, her rifle still trained on the door. They could hear the Smiling Demons on the other side, muffled voices barking orders, followed by the metallic screech of tools against steel.

"They're cutting through," Ghost said, her voice low. "Fast."

Velkan gritted his teeth. "Then we move."

Doc shot him a sharp glare. "She won't last if we move her like this."

Velkan looked down at Wren. Her face was ashen, her breathing shallow. She was trying to say something, but no words came.

The harsh truth slammed into him like a bullet.

They had no medevac. No reinforcements.

No time.

Velkan took a breath, made the call.

"We carry her."

Doc opened his mouth to argue, but one look at Velkan's steely expression made him shut it. Instead, he pulled a small injector from his belt and jammed it into Wren's arm.

Her body tensed as the adrenaline shot surged through her system.

"She won't feel the pain for a little while," Doc muttered. "But when it wears off..." He didn't finish. Didn't need to.

Velkan nodded and looped Wren's arm over his shoulder. Ghost took the other side. Together, they lifted her.

Kane, still barely conscious, tried to push himself up on shaky arms. He was too weak.

Velkan turned to Doc. "You take him."

Doc hesitated. Kane had been the worst off just minutes ago, and now he was the only one still able to walk.

But there was no choice.

"Let's go," Velkan ordered.

Ghost slung her rifle over her shoulder, pulling her sidearm instead—easier to use one-handed. They pushed forward into the darkened tunnel, the only sound the drip of water and the hurried shuffle of their boots.

Behind them, the screech of metal intensified.

Ghost glanced back. "We've got about thirty seconds before they're through."

Velkan picked up the pace. The tunnel was long, but up ahead, he saw what Wren had been talking about—a junction. A fork in the underground railway, leading in multiple directions.

"Which way?" Doc hissed.

Velkan didn't know.

Then Kane spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Left."

Velkan turned to him, eyes narrowing. "How do you—"

Kane winced, forced his head up. His breathing was ragged, but his expression was dead serious.

"Just trust me. Left."

Velkan hesitated.

Then, with a growl, he turned. "Left it is."

They sprinted toward the opening just as the door behind them burst apart.

A voice rang out through the tunnel, smooth and mocking.

"Run faster."

Velkan gritted his teeth and ran.

The tunnel walls blurred past as Fireteam Specter pushed forward, their ragged breaths mixing with the damp, stale air. Every step mattered. Behind them, the Smiling Demons were gaining ground, their boots pounding against the concrete in a steady, relentless rhythm.

Velkan kept his grip firm on Wren, her weight slowing him, but he didn't dare stop. Ghost was at his side, half-dragging, half-carrying Wren as she fought to keep up. Doc was right behind them, Kane slumped against him, his feet barely touching the ground.

"How much farther?" Ghost panted.

Kane, still clinging to consciousness, pointed ahead. "Just... keep going..."

Velkan didn't like the vagueness, but he had no choice.

A burst of gunfire tore through the tunnel. Bullets sparked off the walls.

"Shit—move, move!" Doc shouted.

Velkan felt the air shift as a bullet whizzed past his ear. The Smiling Demons weren't just shooting to pin them down anymore. They were going for kills.

Ghost twisted mid-run, firing a few blind shots over her shoulder.

Velkan heard one of the Demons grunt, then a thud as a body hit the ground.

"Got one," Ghost muttered.

"Not enough," Velkan growled.

Another turn. The tunnel was narrowing, forcing them into single file.

"Doc, get Kane up!" Velkan snapped.

"I'm trying!" Doc gritted his teeth, hauling Kane forward.

Another burst of gunfire. More rounds tearing into the tunnel, the air thick with the scent of burnt gunpowder and concrete dust.

Then—Kane pointed again.

"There!** That door—on the right!**"

Velkan's gaze snapped to the rusted service door, barely visible under layers of grime.

It was their only option.

"Ghost!"

She was already moving, slamming her shoulder into the door.

Nothing.

She stepped back, raised her pistol, and fired into the lock.

The metal snapped, the door creaking open just enough for them to squeeze through.

"Inside—now!"

Velkan shoved Wren in first. Ghost followed, then Doc and Kane.

Velkan was last, just as another bullet clipped the edge of the doorway.

He slammed the door shut.

They collapsed against the walls, breathing hard.

For a moment, the only sound was the distant echo of boots.

Then—silence.

Ghost reloaded her rifle, her jaw tight. "They won't stop."

Velkan exhaled, rubbing his face. He knew that.

Kane, barely holding on, managed a weak, pained chuckle.

"Good."

Velkan stared at him. "What's good?"

Kane smirked.

"It means we're still alive."

Velkan let out a slow breath, his hands still clenched into fists at his sides. His muscles burned, his lungs felt like fire, and his ears still rang from the gunfire in the tunnel. But Kane was right.

They were still alive.

For now.

Doc leaned against the damp concrete wall, pressing two fingers to Wren's throat. "She's still with us," he muttered, but his expression was grim. "But she's not gonna last much longer if we don't get her patched up properly."

Ghost wiped sweat from her forehead, scanning their surroundings. The room was small, cramped, and filled with rusted pipes running along the ceiling. A single metal grate on the floor led deeper underground, but there were no other exits.

"Not exactly ideal," she muttered.

Velkan pushed himself off the wall, rubbing his temples. They needed a plan. The Smiling Demons were out there, hunting them. The moment they figured out where Specter had gone, they'd be all over this place.

"We're not staying," he said.

Kane let out a dry chuckle, shifting against the wall. "Didn't think we were gonna set up a summer home, Velkan."

Velkan ignored him. "That grate. Where does it go?"

Doc moved first, kneeling beside the metal cover and running his fingers along the edge. He found a small latch, rusted with age, and gave it a pull.

Nothing.

Ghost stepped forward. "Move."

She planted her foot against the grate and kicked.

The rusted metal screeched in protest before snapping loose. Below, a dark tunnel stretched down into the unknown. The air smelled damp and stale, but it was a way out.

"Better than nothing," Doc muttered.

Velkan nodded, then turned to Kane. "Can you move?"

Kane exhaled sharply, flexing his fingers. His entire body was wrecked. Every breath looked like agony. But he gritted his teeth and gave a slow nod.

"Yeah," he rasped. "Not gracefully, but yeah."

Velkan exchanged a glance with Doc. They both knew Kane was lying.

Still, there was no choice.

"Alright," Velkan said. "We go one at a time. I'll go first. Then Doc, you send Kane down to me. Ghost, you come last."

Ghost nodded, but she was still watching the door.

"Make it fast," she said. "They're still looking."

Velkan didn't wait. He crouched, lowered himself into the tunnel, and dropped. His boots hit wet ground below, and he immediately raised his weapon, scanning.

Darkness. Narrow space. The sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance.

Clear.

"Doc, send him down," Velkan called.

Doc muttered a curse under his breath but lowered Kane as carefully as he could. Kane groaned, his weight too much for his battered body. But Velkan caught him, easing him onto his feet.

Kane grunted, but stayed up. Barely.

Wren came next, half-conscious. Doc and Ghost worked together to lower her, and Velkan caught her easily, moving her to lean against the wall.

Doc dropped down next, then turned and reached up for Ghost.

Then—

A noise above.

Ghost froze.

Boots. Right outside the door.

Velkan snapped his rifle up, heart pounding.

They found us.

Ghost locked eyes with him. "Go."

Velkan shook his head. "Not happening."

Ghost pulled her sidearm.

"I said go."

Before Velkan could argue, the door above burst open.

Gunfire erupted.