Chapter 114 No Way Back
Her chest tightened. “That’s a dangerous amount of pressure, you know.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But you’re obnoxiously good at carrying things.”
She huffed a small laugh. “Flattery noted.”
For a while, the only sounds were boots on rock and the distant rush of water farther down the valley. The bond hummed in the background of everything—steady, present, like an extra sense.
“You meant it, right?” she said quietly. “Last night. ‘When this is over.’”
He didn’t pretend not to understand. “Yeah. I meant it.”
“And if this never ends?” she asked.
He thought about it longer this time. “Then we find a moment anyway. Even if it’s just one good one in the middle of a mess.”
She looked ahead, jaw set. “Deal.”
Kade called back from up front. “Good news, bad news.”
Maverick sighed. “Start with the bad.”
“Their sweep’s already started,” Kade said. He held up his scanner. The runes pulsed steadily. “Residual grid energy. They’re throwing out wide-field pulses from mobile units. I can feel the distortion bouncing off the wards in the bedrock.”
Lyra frowned. “How close?”
“Couple valleys over. Moving this direction,” he said. “Not fast yet. Careful. They know they’re looking for something that bites.”
“And the good news?” Lyra asked.
Kade pointed ahead. “We’re almost there.”
The rock face in front of them looked unremarkable at first—just another gray wall streaked with old water lines. But as they got closer, faint lines became visible—seams that didn’t match natural formations, hard angles where there shouldn’t have been any.
Maverick stepped around Dax and pressed his hand to the stone, just like he had at the safehouse entrance. “Still feels the same.”
“Old Syndicate?” Lyra asked.
“Older than that,” he said. “Miners carved the first tunnels. Resistance expanded them. Syndicate tried to seal what they couldn’t control.”
“Obviously didn’t do a great job,” Kade said.
Maverick murmured a few words under his breath. The rock shivered, then folded in on itself, revealing a narrow passage that breathed out cold air and the smell of long-undisturbed dust.
Dax raised his eyebrows. “You drag all your dates into holes in the ground, or am I special?”
Maverick shoved him lightly toward the opening. “Walk.”
Lyra shook her head. “If you two start bonding, I’m leaving you both here.”
Kade snorted. “You say that like we’d survive without you.”
Lyra didn’t answer. She stepped into the tunnel, letting the dark swallow her.
The temperature dropped immediately, the sound of the wind outside cutting off like someone had shut a door on the world. The walls were rough stone for the first few meters, then shifted to older work—ribbed supports, rusted metal, carved symbols half-buried in dust.
Kade lit a small orb of blue light in his palm. It floated up, drifting ahead of them and casting everything in cold glow.
“Charming,” he said. “If we get lost, I’m haunting you personally, Maverick.”
“Get in line,” Lyra muttered.
Dax’s voice came back from ahead. “Tunnel branches in about twenty meters. Which way?”
Maverick answered without hesitation. “Left. Right leads to a collapsed shaft. Unless you feel like being crushed today.”
“I’m good,” Dax said.
Lyra watched Maverick as they walked. “You remember all this from before?”
“Bits,” he said. “They used to run supply and prisoners through here. I paid attention whenever I could.”
“So you were planning to run,” she said.
“Always,” he replied.
There wasn’t much else to say to that.
They walked until the air felt heavy and the outside world was nothing but a memory. The tunnel eventually widened into a larger chamber with old rails running through the middle of it, half-buried in dirt. Abandoned mine carts sat tipped on their sides, frozen in mid-spill.
Kade turned, scanning the walls. “Someone’s been here in the last few months. Wards along the ceiling are active. See that flicker?”
Lyra squinted. Faint etchings pulsed above them—subtle, woven into the stone. “Safehouse network?”
“Or someone piggybacking on it,” Kade said.
Dax shifted his weight. “Resistance isn’t the only group hiding in the dark, you know. Syndicate splinters. Smugglers. People who didn’t like choosing sides.”
“Those people have a habit of shooting first and asking never,” Maverick said.
“Sound familiar?” Dax shot back.
“Children,” Kade muttered. “Focus.”
Lyra stepped closer to one of the support beams, tracing the air along a carved symbol without touching it. Her mark tingled faintly. Not a full reaction, just recognition. “This ward pattern… it’s similar to the safehouse. Same style of work.”
Kade nodded slowly. “Then someone from the old rebellion helped build this.”
“Do they know it still works?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
He shifted his stance, placing his palm against the symbol and closing his eyes. The blue light orb dimmed as he focused. The ward pulsed under his hand, then pushed back—a question without words.
Lyra felt it too. Like a door on the other side of the world had turned slightly, listening.
“Tell them we’re not Syndicate,” she said quietly.
“On it,” Kade murmured.
The air thickened. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a second ward, farther down the tunnel, answered.
The stone to their right groaned. Dust rained down in a thin curtain. A section of wall shimmered, then slid inward with a slow, grinding sound, revealing another passage—this one lit by warmer light and the faint murmur of voices.
Lyra’s heart kicked up. “Looks like someone’s home.”
Maverick shifted his grip on Dax’s restraints. “Everybody behave.”
Kade let the blue orb drift higher, but dimmed it out of respect. “Try not to start a war in the doorway. First impressions matter.”
Lyra blew out a slow breath. “Let me talk first. I’m less punchable than you two.”
“Debatable,” Maverick said, but there was affection in it.
She gave him a look. “Back me up, or I start telling people embarrassing stories about you.”
“Empty threat,” he said. “You like me too much.”
She didn’t deny it.
Together, they stepped through the opening—into another hidden piece of a world that refused to stay broken.
Whatever waited on the other side, Lyra knew one thing for sure:
There was no way back to the lives they had before.
Only forward.