20

The deep thrum of Torrak engines grew louder, an ominous vibration in the stone beneath Zara's feet. The noise reverberated through the air, like a heart that beat too hard and too fast. She glanced at Atlas as they moved through the dark tunnel, her pulse racing alongside the mechanical growl echoing behind them.

He was pushing himself harder than he should—every step an effort he refused to show on his face. His massive frame loomed beside her, strong and unwavering despite the damage. His left arm hung useless at his side, the exposed metal sparking faintly. The jagged tears in his synthetic skin caught what little light remained in the tunnel, a patchwork of raw edges and glowing circuitry.

But his eyes—the silver-blue orbs that had anchored her more times than she could count—were steady. Burning bright and determined.

Zara tore her gaze away, gripping her rifle tighter. The weight of everything they’d been through pressed down on her chest like a stone. “How much further?” she asked, her voice sharp in the stillness.

“There is a secondary exit ahead,” Atlas replied, his voice calm despite the faint hiss of his damaged systems. “If we can reach it, we’ll gain distance.”

“And if they’re waiting for us?”

His gaze flicked toward her, the light of his eyes softening for a moment. “Then we’ll find another way.”

His calm unnerved her. Why do you always sound so unshakable? she thought bitterly. She couldn’t decide if it infuriated her or made her trust him more. Maybe both.

But underneath the calm was something else—something fragile. She’d seen it flicker across his face before he’d turned away. He knew how bad his condition was, even if he wouldn’t say it aloud.

“Atlas,” she said quietly, matching his steps. “You’re slowing down.”

“I am functional,” he replied smoothly, not looking at her.

“Stop it,” she snapped, anger bubbling up. “Stop pretending you’re fine when you’re not.”

He finally looked at her, his silver-blue gaze locking onto hers. “What would you have me say?”

“That you need help!” she shouted, frustration cracking her voice. “That you can’t do this alone anymore!”

Atlas was silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, softly, he said, “I do not know how to ask for help.”

Her chest tightened, the confession hitting her harder than she expected. She slowed her pace, turning to face him fully. “Then let me help you anyway,” she whispered, her voice gentler now. “Don’t shut me out.”

Atlas studied her for a moment, the sharp lines of his face softened by something almost... human. “I am not shutting you out,” he said quietly. “I am protecting you.”

“And what happens when you can’t protect me anymore?” she shot back. “What happens when you... when you—”

She couldn’t say it. The thought of losing him, of seeing those silver-blue eyes go dark, was too much.

He stepped closer, towering over her as his good hand rose to brush against her cheek. His fingers were cool, firm, but careful—always careful. His touch made her breath hitch, the chaos of the world around them falling into silence.

“Then I will still have chosen you,” he said softly.

Her throat tightened, tears burning her eyes as she looked up at him. “You don’t have to choose me at the cost of yourself.”

“Zara,” he murmured, his gaze softening. “You are the reason I know what it means to choose.”

She swallowed hard, her heart thundering in her chest. The space between them seemed to shrink, the air charged with something unspoken. Atlas’s fingers lingered on her cheek, his glowing eyes fixed on hers with a depth she didn’t know machines could possess.

For the first time, she didn’t see the metal beneath his skin or the wires sparking in his joints. She saw him—a being more alive than anyone she’d ever met, despite the world insisting he was nothing but a machine.

“You’re impossible,” she whispered, tears slipping down her face.

“And yet,” he said softly, “here we are.”

The roar of Torrak engines shattered the fragile moment. Atlas’s expression shifted instantly, the softness replaced by cold precision as he turned toward the noise. Zara wiped at her face, anger pushing back her tears as she raised her rifle.

“They’re close,” he said, his voice sharp again. “We need to move.”

“Then let’s go,” she replied, her tone hardening as she fell into step beside him.

The tunnel stretched on for what felt like forever. Zara’s boots splashed through shallow puddles, the damp air clinging to her skin and making her shiver. Atlas walked ahead of her, his massive frame cutting a sharp silhouette against the dim glow of the algae-lined walls. She could hear the faint hum of his systems, uneven and strained, but he didn’t stop.

And neither did she.

Finally, they reached a fork in the path. The tunnel split into two directions—one sloping upward, the other descending into darkness.

“Which way?” Zara asked, her voice low.

Atlas tilted his head slightly, his eyes flickering as he processed. “The left tunnel,” he said. “It leads to the secondary exit.”

The sound of Torrak engines was closer now—too close. Zara turned toward the right tunnel, her gaze narrowing. “And what about that one?”

“It leads deeper underground,” Atlas said, his voice clipped. “It will not get us out.”

“But it might buy us time,” Zara muttered.

Atlas’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “No. We do not go deeper.”

She turned to look at him, her brow furrowing. “Why not?”

“Because I cannot guarantee your safety down there,” he replied. “And your safety is my priority.”

Her chest ached as she stared at him. “Atlas, you are my priority.”

The words hung between them, heavy and unspoken until now. Atlas didn’t move, his glowing eyes locked onto hers as if he didn’t know how to respond.

Finally, the growl of Torrak soldiers grew so loud that the ground vibrated beneath their feet. Zara gritted her teeth, the urgency flooding back into her veins.

“We don’t have time to argue,” she said, grabbing his good arm. “We’re taking the right tunnel. If it gets us further away, that’s enough for now.”

“Zara,” Atlas began, his voice low with warning.

“Trust me for once,” she said, her voice trembling.

He stared at her for a long moment, and then finally, he nodded. “Very well.”

The right tunnel was darker than she’d expected. It sloped downward sharply, the walls narrowing as they moved deeper into the earth. The air grew colder and heavier, thick with the smell of damp stone. Zara’s pulse pounded as she held her rifle ready, glancing back at Atlas as he followed behind her.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I am functional,” he replied, though his voice was softer than before.

She frowned, her chest tightening. “We’ll find a way out. I promise.”

He didn’t respond, but when she glanced at him, his eyes were focused on her—steady, unwavering.

The tunnel eventually widened into a larger cavern, its ceiling lost in shadow. Stalactites hung low, dripping water that echoed through the silence like a slow, ominous drumbeat. Zara took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

“We’ll rest here,” she said, glancing around. “Just for a minute.”

Atlas hesitated but nodded, leaning against the stone wall as his systems hummed faintly. Zara dropped her rifle, kneeling beside him as she brushed her hand against his chest—over the torn synthetic skin and the faint flicker of his exposed core.

“You’re still with me,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

“Always,” he replied softly.

Her throat tightened, but before she could say anything else, a sound echoed through the cavern—low, distant, but unmistakable.

Another growl.