Episode----- 28
Rain-slick stone gave way to cold iron stairs spiraling into darkness. The engine's rumble grew nearer above, but Ayan's breath rasped with every step, pain lancing through his ribs. Lina kept one arm around his waist, her fingers digging into blood-stained cloth to steady him.
They stumbled into a narrow passage beneath the ruin — a tunnel carved long ago, brick walls weeping damp. The flicker of broken lamps cast uneven light, shadows dancing over moss and old graffiti.
"Where does this go?" Lina whispered, breath clouding in the chill.
"Smugglers' route," Ayan rasped. "Old escape paths… back when Revan still trusted me to run them."
She heard the bitterness in his voice — a ghost of loyalty twisted into ruin. Above, the echo of boots striking stone urged them onward.
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They moved slowly, Ayan's steps uneven, blood soaking through makeshift bandages. At every turn, Lina watched him, fear and determination clashing in her chest.
"You're bleeding more," she whispered, voice taut.
"It's nothing," he lied, the words rough, broken. But the pallor of his face betrayed him.
"We can't keep running forever," Lina insisted, her voice cracking.
"We have to. They won't stop," Ayan rasped, his breath catching. "Not after Revan."
"And if you collapse?" she shot back, voice shaking. "What then?"
He didn't answer — just pressed on, jaw set, gaze fixed on shadows ahead.
---
The tunnel forked into two paths: one swallowed in darkness, the other lit by a single flickering lamp. Ayan paused, chest heaving.
"They'll expect us to take the lighted way," he murmured, voice raw. "We go left."
"But it's pitch black," Lina whispered, fear curling cold fingers around her ribs.
"I know," he rasped. "Stay close."
She grasped his hand, fingers cold against his calloused palm. Together, they stepped into the dark.
---
The blackness swallowed them whole. Lina's breath quickened, the stale air thick with old earth and rust. Every drop of water striking stone echoed louder than a gunshot.
Ayan moved by memory, guiding her past rubble and broken beams. His hand trembled in hers, pain and exhaustion coiling through each ragged breath.
Above them, the faint sound of voices filtered down — sharp orders barked in anger. "Find them! They couldn't have gone far!"
Lina tightened her grip on Ayan's hand. "They're so close," she whispered.
"They'll check the main tunnel first," Ayan rasped. "We have a few minutes, maybe more."
"And after that?" she breathed.
"After that… we run faster," he whispered, the words cracking under guilt and fear.
---
The tunnel narrowed, forcing them to walk sideways between walls slick with moss. Lina's heart thundered, matching each labored breath Ayan drew.
"Why did they call you traitor?" she blurted, voice barely a breath. "You killed Revan. Doesn't that make you free?"
A long pause followed, broken only by dripping water.
"I turned once before," Ayan murmured, voice ragged. "Years ago, I tried to leave. Took money, hid evidence… tried to run."
"And?" she whispered.
"They caught me. Revan spared my life — made me watch as they killed the man who helped me. Then dragged me back into the fold."
Lina felt his hand tremble, the memory bleeding through the years. "So why spare you at all?" she asked softly.
"Because breaking me was worth more than killing me," he whispered, voice thick. "A living warning is more terrifying than a corpse."
---
Silence stretched, thick as wet stone.
"And now?" Lina asked, voice cracking.
"Now I'm truly a traitor," Ayan rasped, the words tasting like ash. "And they'll never stop hunting us."
"But you'd still do it again?" she whispered.
His breath caught. "For you? Yes."
---
They emerged into a cavernous space — an old smuggler's hall, its ceiling arched with cracked stone. Broken crates and rusted lanterns lay scattered across damp ground.
Light pooled from above: a hole where roots spilled through broken brick. A rope ladder, half-rotted but still hanging, dangled near the far wall.
Ayan stumbled, breath ragged, hand pressed to his ribs. Blood darkened the cloth Lina had tied around him.
"Wait," Lina whispered, pulling him to lean against a pillar. "You can't climb like this."
"We have no choice," he gasped.
"They're coming," she whispered, hearing faint footsteps echo through the tunnel.
"Then help me," he rasped.
---
Together, they crossed the hall, boots slipping on wet stone. Lina climbed first, her hands shaking on rotted rope. Each step felt like it would tear free, dropping her into darkness.
Reaching the top, she turned, breathless. "Come on!" she hissed.
Ayan grasped the rope, every motion etched with agony. His vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges.
Halfway up, the rope jerked — a frayed section unraveling. Wood splintered above.
"Ayan!" Lina screamed, hand reaching for him.
With a grunt of pain, he caught a brick outcrop, hauling himself higher despite the searing burn in his side. Breath came in ragged gasps; the hall below spun, shadows twisting.
"Almost!" Lina sobbed, leaning down, arm outstretched.
Their fingers brushed — cold, shaking, blood-slick.
---
With a final surge, Ayan pulled himself over the edge, collapsing beside her on crumbling tiles. His chest heaved, every breath a fight.
"They're here," he gasped, hearing the echo of boots below.
Lina caught his face in shaking hands. "We can't stop now," she whispered.
Pain darkened his gaze, but he nodded. "Then let's keep moving," he rasped.
Hand in hand, they rose — hearts pounding, past and future colliding in each step — and fled deeper into the broken city's hollow roads.
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✨ Teaser for Episode 29:
As pursuers close in, Lina discovers the full price of Ayan's past betrayal — and what dark promise binds him to the very men hunting them.