The tunnels stank of burnt metal and old smoke, thick enough to taste. I stepped over collapsed beams and scattered shards of glass, each step a negotiation with gravity and bad timing. Survival had a flair for the dramatic and apparently, I was the unwilling lead.
Hiss… clink…
Elliot limped along beside me, face streaked with grime, eyes sharp despite the chaos. He didn't speak at first, just watched the wreckage like a man reading a city's obituary.
"Smoke looks cozy," I said, voice low. "Perfect backdrop for a horror show starring us."
He didn't flinch. "This isn't a show. You've just started a fire you can't control."
I smirked. "Control is overrated. Chaos, on the other hand…"
Pop… scratch…
Bodies were strewn along side passages, some barely moving, some already scheming to claw back scraps of authority. I noted who could fight tomorrow, who wouldn't. My eyes flicked to scorched walls and bent metal like a critic judging a theater set.
Clatter… hum…
The echo of distant footsteps reminded me that the tunnels were alive or someone wanted me to think they were. I adjusted my pace, letting the shadows play their part, letting paranoia sharpen me like a blade.
Rattle… hiss…
Elliot finally met my gaze. "You're starting to enjoy this," he said, tired but unafraid.
"Enjoy? Nah," I replied, "I just like seeing who trips over their own mistakes first. Keeps things interesting."
Creak… pop…
I passed a scorched corridor where a Lieutenant had tried to regroup. A half-broken console blinked weakly, signaling nothing of consequence but adding drama. I muttered under my breath, "Ah, ambition. Always impressive until gravity gets involved."
Drip… sizzle…
Elliot's silence stretched, a quiet accusation that I had changed. Maybe he was right. Maybe survival had stripped me down to something less human. Less… polite. But it had also sharpened me, tuned my senses to the fractures others ignored.
Whisper… clink…
The tunnels seemed to sigh with expectation, as if the city itself were holding its breath. And me? I was ready. Not heroic. Not clever. Just awake enough to watch the fire burn where others feared to step.
I glanced at Elliot and the twisted wreckage around us. "Well," I said, voice dry, sarcastic, "at least the chaos looks professional today."