A distant screech echoed through the ventilation system, followed by the sound of tearing metal. Whatever escaped was getting closer, and it sounded big.
“This way,”Asher directed, moving toward a maintenance hatch rather than the main door.“Service corridors will be safer than main passages.”
Levi followed, mind still churning with questions even as survival instincts took precedence. As Asher pried open the hatch, Levi made a decision. Whatever Asher was—test subject, AI, something else entirely—he wouldn’t abandon him. Hecouldn’tabandon him.
I couldn’t save Ethan,he thought as he climbed into the narrow maintenance shaft after Asher.But I might be able to save Asher. And myself.
The hatch sealed behind them, plunging them into near-darkness broken only by emergency lighting strips along the floor. Asher moved with confidence through the cramped space, one hand occasionally reaching back to ensure Levi was still close behind.
“Stay with me,”he said, the words both command and plea. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know.”
For now, they would navigate this new horror together. For now, they would survive. And when the opportunity came—when he understood more about the nature of this new game, about Asher, about himself—then he would find a way for both of them to escape.
Even if that meant confronting the possibility that the Asher he knew might not exist beyond the game.
Even if it meant facing the terrifying, exhilarating truth that their relationship might continue beyond the simulation—with all its darkness, its intensity, its undeniable connection.
The screeching sound came again, closer now, echoing through the metal walls around them. Asher paused, his sidearm raised, body positioned to shield Levi from whatever approached.
In that moment—poised between horror and hope, between one nightmare and the next—Levi found himself strangely content. Whatever came next, they would face it together.
The game continued, but the rules had changed.
And this time, Levi intended to win.