When he finally fell into step beside Bryce, he stared at the forest in front of him and tried to keep his voice low.

The blast door hissed open, revealing the dimly lit corridor beyond. The team moved out in tight formation, every sense on high alert as they made their way towards the maintenance tunnels.

Gregory was modestly relieved the next morning when it became clear that his new captors were actually intending for him to be treated as a guest, though one lacking total freedom. They didn’t force him to travel with them, but they also didn’t offer him a chance to leave.

The team moved cautiously through the airlock, the beams from their helmet-mounted lights cutting through the darkness of the abandoned station. The air was stale and cold, carrying an underlying scent of decay that set Marcus's nerves on edge.

The city lights blurred past as Haatim drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The silence in the car grew heavier with each passing minute until finally, Petrillo couldn't take it anymore.

The car ride into the city was tense, filled with an oppressive silence that seemed to weigh on Petrillo's chest. Haatim's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, while Frieda stared out the window, her face a mask of grim determination.

The team moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors, the echoes of their footsteps seeming to reverberate endlessly in the eerie silence. Chelsea limped along, supported by Lucas, while Rylee took point, her weapon raised and ready.

Frieda and Damien burst through the underbrush, their faces etched with worry. They skidded to a halt when they saw Petrillo standing alone by the car, his eyes wide with fear and guilt.

Petro rode his horse along the muddy road, his eyes scanning the thick forest on either side. The rain had let up, but the air remained heavy with moisture. His armor clinked softly with each step of his mount.