Eva walked fast.
Not just fast—driven. Her boots hit the forest floor with purpose, her breath steady, her eyes fixed ahead. Maya struggled to keep up, her shorter legs working double-time, but Eva didn't slow. Couldn't slow.
Wolfen was dying.
The thought circled in her head like a trapped animal, frantic, desperate. He can't be dying. He doesn't die. He's Wolfen. He's been through worse. He's been through everything. He's—
She saw the ranger station through the trees and pushed harder.
The door banged open. Eva stood in the doorway, breathing hard, scanning the room.
Wolfen was on the sofa.
Casual. Relaxed. One arm draped over the back, the other resting on his knee. Beside him, Zoey lay with her head propped on a cushion, her stomach wrapped in fresh bandages, her face pale. Leo sat in the chair by the window, his posture rigid, his jaw tight. Derek was beside Jordan, their voices low, their eyes flicking toward the sofa every few seconds. Lena stood at the kitchenette, stirring something in a cup, not drinking it.
Wolfen looked up.
"Yo, Evie."
"Yo?" Eva's voice cracked. "Yo? What do you mean, yo? Aren't you worried? What the hell do you mean, yo?"
Wolfen blinked. "Huh? What else do I say? 'Hi, Eva, how are you, fine, well I'm not fine because I'm dying'?" He shrugged. "Should I say that and make you more stressed?"
"I'm already stressed."
"Okay. So did you find anything or—"
"Why are you so calm?"
The words came out wrong—too loud, too sharp, too something. Eva heard herself and couldn't stop. "Aren't you worried? Don't you care? You're dying, Wolfen. How can you just sit there like—like nothing's happening?"
Wolfen tilted his head. "Well, I wasn't paying attention, and I got stabbed."
"No." Zoey's voice came from the sofa, muffled by her arm. "No, you were paying attention. I wasn't paying attention." Her shoulders shook. "You got stabbed because of me."
"Zoey—" Lena started.
"You should sleep," Lena said quietly.
"Let's make one thing clear." Wolfen's voice cut through the room, lighter now, almost joking. "When I die, no one cries. Or I'll rise up from my grave and roast all of you."
"Don't say that." Zoey's voice cracked. "You're not going to die. Don't—don't say that."
"Zoey." Wolfen's voice softened. "Stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault."
"It is."
"Nope. It isn't."
Maya stepped forward, her voice carefully bright. "Well! Me and Eva thought of something. Asking Absolute 2 Eva where Facility X is, and—" She was trying to steer them away, trying to pull them back from the edge. "So that's good, right? We have a plan?"
"Yeah." Derek latched onto it. "That's a good idea. Wolfie, get to work."
The vein on Wolfen's forehead pulsed. "What did you call me?"
Maya ignored him. "Eva, can you give me the phone?"
Eva was sitting beside Zoey now, her hands over her face, her shoulders shaking. She didn't move.
Maya reached into Eva's pocket, pulled out the device, and handed it to Wolfen.
He took it. His fingers moved over the screen, dialing, waiting.
The room held its breath.
Ten minutes passed. The phone buzzed against his ear, unanswered.
Twenty. The silence stretched, thin and brittle.
Forty. Leo's leg bounced. Derek's knuckles were white. Jordan stared at the wall, counting seconds.
An hour. Twelve minutes.
The call connected.
Wolfen's thumb hovered over the speaker button. He pressed it.
Absolute 2 Eva's voice filled the room. Not cold. Not controlled. Something Eva had never heard from her before.
Tired.
"What?"
Wolfen's voice was steady. "We need the location of Facility X."
A long pause. He could hear her breathing, slow and deliberate.
"Why?"
"Lily needs it."
Another pause. Longer.
"She's dying." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was filled with everything none of them could say—the weight of a sister dying, the horror of a virus with no cure, the terrible truth that the only person who could help them was the one who had built the world they were trying to destroy.
"I'll send the coordinates."
Her voice cracked. Just once. Just enough.
"Don't let her die alone and make sure she's at peace"
Wolfen's throat moved. "We won't and sure."
The line went dead.
Wolfen set the phone down. His face was unreadable. His left eye was black. His veins were dark.
Across the room, Zoey's shoulders shook under her arm.
Eva stared at the phone, at the screen, at the dark mirror of her own face that had just given them the only hope they had.
Don't let her die alone.
She wouldn't. None of them would.
The room was silent. The plan was in motion.
But it didn't feel like victory. It felt like the last step before falling.