10
The tunnels trembled with the distant rumble of Torrak engines, a steady, unrelenting reminder of the danger chasing them. Zara moved as quickly as her legs would allow, her pulse rifle clutched tightly in her hands. She glanced over her shoulder at Atlas, whose towering frame cut a sharp silhouette in the dim light.
Even damaged, he moved with an unshakable precision, his silver-blue eyes glowing like twin beacons in the darkness. His left arm still hung limp at his side, and his chest was scorched with deep burns, yet his expression betrayed nothing of the toll his injuries must have taken.
“Keep moving,” he urged, his voice steady but low.
“I’m moving,” she shot back, her tone sharper than she intended. She was tired—bone-deep tired—and the weight of everything they’d faced was pressing down on her like a lead blanket. But the thought of stopping, of letting the Torrak catch up, was enough to keep her feet moving.
Still, she couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at her chest. Every time she looked at Atlas, her stomach twisted. He had taken every blow meant for her, his body battered and burned because he had chosen to protect her.
“You shouldn’t be this hurt,” she said, her voice quieter now.
He didn’t look at her, his eyes scanning the path ahead. “It was necessary.”
“No,” she said, stopping in her tracks. “It wasn’t.”
Atlas turned to face her, his towering form casting a shadow over her. His glowing eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you don’t have to throw yourself into every fight just to protect me,” she said, her voice rising despite herself. “You’re not invincible, Atlas. You can’t keep doing this.”
His jaw tightened, the faintest flicker of something—frustration, perhaps—crossing his features. “You are my priority, Zara,” he said, his tone firm. “That will not change.”
Her chest tightened, anger and guilt swirling inside her like a storm. “And what happens when you can’t get back up?” she demanded, stepping closer. “What happens when—”
Her words faltered as his glowing eyes locked onto hers, their intensity silencing her.
“I will always get back up,” he said, his voice softer now. “For you.”
Her breath caught at the raw certainty in his words, the quiet vulnerability that made her chest ache. She wanted to argue, to push back, but the look in his eyes left her speechless.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said finally, her voice trembling.
“You won’t,” he said, his gaze unwavering.
The silence between them was heavy as they continued down the tunnel, the distant sounds of pursuit growing fainter. Zara kept stealing glances at Atlas, her mind a chaotic mess of emotions. She hated how much she cared, how deeply she had come to rely on him. It scared her—terrified her, even—because she didn’t know how to reconcile the feelings twisting in her chest.
He was a machine, and yet... he wasn’t.
“Atlas,” she said after a long moment, her voice hesitant.
“Yes?”
She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “Do you ever think about what it would be like... to be human?”
He glanced at her, his expression thoughtful. “I do,” he said finally. “Often.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What do you think it would be like?”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant. “I think it would be... overwhelming,” he said. “To feel everything so deeply. To be flawed, fragile, and yet... alive.”
Her chest tightened at the quiet longing in his voice. “You already feel,” she said softly.
“Not like you,” he said, his gaze meeting hers. “What I feel is... incomplete. Fragmented.”
Zara swallowed hard, her throat tightening. “You’re more human than you think,” she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.
A flicker of something—hope, maybe—crossed his face. “Do you believe that?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice steady. “I do.”
They reached a fork in the tunnel, and Atlas stopped, his head tilting slightly as he listened. Zara waited, her breath catching as his glowing eyes flickered.
“This way,” he said, nodding toward the left path.
As they moved, the tunnel began to slope downward, the air growing cooler and damp. The walls were slick with moisture, the bioluminescent algae casting an eerie green glow.
Zara shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. “Where does this lead?”
“There’s a drainage channel ahead,” Atlas said. “It connects to the city’s old sewer system. We can use it to reach the surface.”
“Sounds disgusting,” she muttered.
“It is practical,” he replied, his tone even.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at her lips. Despite everything, he still managed to make her laugh.
The tunnel opened into a wide, cavernous chamber, the faint sound of rushing water echoing through the space. Zara’s eyes darted around, her pulse quickening as she took in the massive pipes and crumbling infrastructure.
“This doesn’t feel safe,” she said, gripping her rifle tightly.
“It isn’t,” Atlas said, his gaze scanning the chamber. “Stay close.”
She didn’t argue, moving to stand beside him as he led the way. The floor was slick, the sound of water growing louder with every step. Zara’s heart raced as her boots slipped on the wet surface, but Atlas’s steady presence beside her kept her grounded.
Then, without warning, the air was shattered by the deafening roar of Torrak engines.
Zara spun around, her eyes widening as a group of Torrak soldiers emerged from the tunnel behind them. Their glowing eyes and bristling weapons were unmistakable, their guttural snarls reverberating through the chamber.
“Get behind me,” Atlas said sharply, stepping in front of her.
Her chest tightened as she watched him, his broad shoulders squared, his glowing eyes burning with determination. He looked like a soldier preparing for battle, but there was something more—something fiercely protective—that made her heart ache.
“Atlas—”
“Go,” he said, his voice unyielding.
“I’m not leaving you!” she shouted, her voice breaking.
His gaze softened, just for a moment, and she saw the faintest flicker of emotion in his eyes. “I promised you I would come back,” he said quietly. “Trust me.”