They didn't stop running.
Not when the voices got louder behind them.
Not when the sound of footsteps split some heading inside, others circling out.
Not even when Camille's lungs started to burn.
Dante didn't slow.
Didn't hesitate.
He knew exactly where he was going.
Camille followed, her hand still locked in his, her pulse crashing hard in her ears not just from the sprint, but from everything else building underneath it.
Because it was still there.
That presence.
But it wasn't quiet anymore.
It was
Focused.
"Left," Dante said sharply.
She didn't question it.
They turned down a narrow path between buildings, shadows swallowing them instantly.
"Are they following?" he asked.
Camille's breath hitched.
"I wait."
She tried to focus, even while moving.
It was harder now.
Messier.
The connection flickered, unstable under pressure.
"I can't get a clear" she started.
Then
Something snapped into place.
"There," she said quickly. "Two behind us. One cutting around."
