The subway tunnels became their world.For three days, Bobby, Lyra, and Darius lived in the dark beneath the city. The abandoned station smelled of damp rust and mold, the air thick and heavy, but it was the only place they could vanish.They lit no fires. Spoke only when necessary. Ate sparingly from whatever food Bobby had stuffed in his backpack, supplemented by stale crackers Darius had stashed.Every sound echoed too loudly. Every shadow looked like it could peel open to reveal a faceless machine stepping through.But XX-66 did not come.Not yet.---Bobby spent those days watching the others more than sleeping.Darius tried to hide how bad his injuries were, but the mottled bruises across his chest told the truth. His ribs had cracked like snapped branches; every breath made him wince.Lyra’s wound was no better. She’d managed to stop the bleeding, but the gash in her side was deep, and she burned with fever at night, shivering beneath the torn jacket she used as a blanket.Bobb

The strangers closed in.Their shadows lengthened across the gravel yard, stretching toward Bobby and Darius like claws.The tall man in the coat kept his hands raised, palms outward. His tone was calm, even reassuring, but his eyes never blinked.“We don’t want trouble,” he said.Bobby didn’t believe it for a second.He’d seen Loopers wear masks before, literally and otherwise. They’d passed for teachers, neighbors, friendly faces who lingered just long enough to cut him down.These strangers didn’t need glowing cracks or masks. There was something in their stillness—too precise, too sharp—that made Bobby’s skin crawl.Darius noticed it too. He adjusted his grip on the pulse gun, keeping it half-raised despite his injuries. His voice was a rasp, low but steady.“You’ve already found us,” he said. “So what now?”The man tilted his head slightly. “Now, we finish this.”---The others moved forward.Not with the uneven shuffle of scavengers, not with the cautious gait of survivors—but w