Scarface marches away, his boots grinding against the packed dirt of the tunnel floor.
His eyes are fixed on the exit, looking at anything but the woman who just claimed to be his wife.
"You're going nowhere," Uddin says, stepping into his path.
"Move. Now!" Scarface's voice cracks like thunder, the sound bouncing off the damp stone walls.
Daisy flinches at the raw volume of it.
"We can't go out there. There are men hunting us," Uddin pleads, her voice low and steady. He tries to shove past her, but her grip clamps around his wrist—iron and unyielding. She doesn't budge an inch.
Scarface's breath turns ragged, a whistling sound in the cramped space.
Suddenly, the strength seems to leak out of him.
He collapses, his knees hitting the dirt with a dull thud. His hands press into the cold ground as if he's trying to anchor himself to the earth. A broken, choked sound escapes him.
He's breaking, Daisy thinks, her heart twisting.
The man who just killed a guard without blinking is falling apart over a girl.
"Tell them," the stranger says, her tone slicing through the silence like a razor.
"Tell us what?" Moon Black demands. Her hand is still white-knuckled on her sword hilt, her patience visibly evaporating.
"He left me to die," the girl says. The words land heavier than the distant shouts of the soldiers outside.
"Enough drama!" Moon Black snaps, shaking her head. "We have an army on our heels and a failed mission on our hands. I don't care about your marriage."
Daisy finds herself stepping forward before she can stop herself. "Maybe we should let him speak? He looks... he looks like he's hurting."
Moon Black turns a cold, lethal glare toward her. "Know your place, Newbie."
Machi, the Feather-Hat, peeks through a crack in the hidden stone door. A faint orange glow from the soldiers' torches flickers somewhere beyond. "The sounds are fading," she whispers. "The patrol is moving toward the river.
Let's move while we have the shadows."
Uddin turns back to the stranger, her eyes narrowing. "Wait. You called me by my name back there. How do you know who I am?"
"I'll tell you later," the girl says, glancing anxiously toward the door. "We need to leave. This hillside isn't safe once the sun breaks."
"Wait," Justice demands, his voice cutting through the tension.
"What is it?" Moon Black furrows her brow.
"I have a plan. This time, we head West."
"No way," Moon Black retorts. "That's the Outlander's territory. A dangerous and risky move. We don't cross the Outlander they are a deadly gang."
"Trust me. I know someone there who can help us escape."
Moon Black reaches for the door, her jaw set. "We're in Centre City, heading to the west is a far journey from here."
"I know a route that can get us direct from the West, back into Centre City, specifically New sage." Justice replies.
"Alright." Moon Black says. "If we get caught, Justice, you're dead."
Uddin and Daisy reach down, hauling Scarface to his feet. He stumbles, his gaze hollow and unfocused, but he doesn't resist.
They slip out into the biting night air. Running.
Hours passes. Their footsteps match against the hard ground, calm and deliberate.
They cut through a narrow, crooked alleyway on the outskirts of a settlement Daisy doesn't recognize.
"We've reached the West. Stay sharp," Moon Black warns.
The group starts walking, their silhouettes stretching against the cracked pavement.
Daisy slows, her neck craning upward until her shoulders start to ache:
New Sage was a fortress. This City is something else entirely. A jungle of glass and grit. Taller. Leaner. Sharper.
Despite, it's still not as beautiful as Soviet Town.
Their footsteps make a silent sound on the concrete floor. Light clings to the place in restless patches. Salvaged screens buzz against cracked walls, bleeding color into the alleys.
Roofs sag under their own weight, edges drooping like tired eyes.
Graffiti cuts across the stone—bright, jagged, alive.
Overhead, streetlights stutter, throwing thin, shifting shadows across the broken ground.
Trash crunches underfoot.
A narrow stream of runoff snakes along the path, carrying a sour, rotting stench.
"Keep your eyes up," Justice warns, his voice a low rasp that cuts through Daisy's wonder. "The West doesn't like gawkers."
"Ew. This stinks," Moon Black mutters, pinching her nose.
Why does everything in this world smell like rot or smoke? Daisy wonders. Does anywhere just smell like... flowers?
Justice stops at a simple wooden door wedged between two leaning walls.
He knocks—a steady, rhythmic pattern. A long pause follows.
A chubby man opens the door. His eyes are tired, but they sharpen into points of suspicion when he sees the armed group standing in the dark.
"Young Boy Justice!" he calls. "It's been a while." His eyes scan the group, lingering on their weapons.
Justice walks closer. "Mr. Rob, we need your help."
"Who are they? Your friends?"
"Yes."
The man steps aside to let them in.
Daisy looks around the room:
A single candle flickers on a rough wooden table. The walls are cracked and dusty.
What kind of a person is this man? He sure is dirty.
"Son, where have you been?" Mr. Rob asks.
"No time to explain," Justice says. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving him hollow and shaky.
Mr. Rob furrows his brow, looking at the blood on Scarface's sleeve. "What have you gotten yourself into, boy?"
"Please, Mr. Rob," Justice pleads, his voice small. "We need to leave fast. They're searching the Keep. They might come here as well."
The man's gaze lingers on Moon Black. "Where are you guys heading?"
Daisy opens her mouth to explain, but Moon Black pulls her back by the shoulder.
"We're heading to a nearby town," Moon Black says smoothly. "We got caught in the crossfire."
The man studies them for another heartbeat, his eyes resting on Daisy's bruised face, then he nods slowly.
"It's almost dawn. Follow me. I'll show you the back path through the cellar."
He guides them through a cramped, low-ceilinged hallway that smells of yeast and old wood, leading them to a hidden trail behind the house.
"Go straight," Mr. Rob says quietly. "Don't stop until you're home."
Justice pauses at the doorway, looking back. "Thanks, Mr. Rob. I owe you."
"No," the man says, patting the boy's shoulder. "You've been good to me in the past. My door is always open to you, Justice."
They step back out into the early dawn. The sky is lightening at the edges—a pale, uncertain grey that offers no warmth. Moon Black turns back as they start to run again.
"Justice, who is he?"
Justice chuckles darkly. "That's my former business partner, Mr. Rob. I used to live here, you know."
"Why did you leave then?"
Justice sighs. "Moon Black, you don't usually care about someone's biography. Why the curiosity?"
"Just tell me."
"I left because I was appointed to join the Outlanders once I turn sixteen. I'm fifteen now, so it's close."
"What business were you engaged in with that man?"
"We have to quit talking for now," Justice replies, glancing ahead. "The others have gone far past us."
"Right."
Their footsteps pound faster, catching up to the group.
Up front, Daisy and the others move in a deliberate, fluid rhythm.
Daisy watches them, the weight of the night pressing down on her:
A broken veteran, a mysterious wife, a wild group… For now never lasts.
It's just the wait before the next disaster.