Threads Unraveling

The silence was suffocating. Only the faint, distant growls of the creature behind the metal door broke through the cold stillness of the tunnel. My heart pounded in my ears, but my mind was focused on Lylia, still too calm, too disconnected from the chaos that nearly consumed us. My grip tightened on her arm.

"Sorry?" I repeated, my voice harsher than I intended, each syllable sharp in the cold air. "What are you talking about, Lylia? What did you do?"

Her eyes shifted, and I could see something fragile in them, like a crack in the surface she was trying so hard to keep intact. She looked away, but her silence said everything. A chill crawled up my spine, and I pulled my hand away from her like I had been burned.

Zeke pushed himself up from the floor, wiping sweat and grime from his face, his tablet clutched tightly to his chest. "We don't have time for this," he muttered, his voice strained. "That thing could break through at any moment."

Apollo stood at the door, his hand on his gun, jaw set as he listened for any sign of the creature. He hadn't said much since we stumbled through the door, but his eyes flicked between Lylia and me, and I knew he sensed it too—that invisible fracture growing within the group.

"She didn't run," I said, forcing the words out, feeling them settle in the dark, damp air. "She knew that thing was coming, and she didn't run."

Lylia's face hardened, her calm demeanor cracking. "I didn't want this," she whispered, stepping back from me. "I didn't want any of this."

"Then what do you want?" Zeke demanded, his voice low but furious as he looked up from his screen. "Because if you're about to stab us in the back, now would be a good time to say something."

Lylia's gaze darted between us, and for the first time, I saw real fear in her eyes—not fear of the infected or the military, but fear of us.

"I didn't have a choice!" she shouted, her voice breaking, echoing through the narrow passage. "You don't understand what's happening. You don't know what they're capable of—"

"Who?" Apollo finally spoke, his voice calm but demanding. He stepped forward, crossing the space between us. "Who are you talking about?"

Her lips trembled, and then the dam broke. "The government. The military. They know what we're doing. They know about the files. They... they promised me immunity if I—"

I stared at her, disbelief rising in my chest. "If you what? If you betray us?"

Lylia's head dropped. "They said they would protect me, protect my family. They promised they wouldn't hurt anyone if I told them what we were planning." She looked up, her voice quieter. "I didn't think it would get this far."

I felt the weight of her words crash over me, and for a moment, the world around me blurred. The woman I thought of as my friend, my ally in this fight, had sold us out. The people we had trusted—people who were supposed to protect us—were playing both sides. And we had been their pawns.

Before I could respond, Zeke turned sharply, his face pale with fury. "You think that justifies what you did?" he hissed, stepping toward her. "You let them track us, you almost got us killed, and for what? A deal with the people who caused this mess?"

Lylia opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Apollo grabbed Zeke's arm, pulling him back. "This isn't the time," he said, his voice steady. "We need to keep moving before that thing finds another way in."

But I couldn't let it go. "We trusted you," I said, my voice shaking with anger. "I trusted you."

Lylia flinched as if I had struck her, and for a moment, I thought she would break completely. But then, she lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing. "I didn't want to do it. But I wasn't going to sit around and let you throw our lives away for some noble cause. What's the point of the truth if everyone's dead?"

"That's the difference between us," I said, my voice low and cold. "You gave up on the truth. We didn't."

She didn't respond. Instead, she turned her back on us, moving down the tunnel. The silence that followed was thick, heavy with the realization that nothing would ever be the same between us.

Zeke started walking again, his face tight with frustration. "We need to get to the surface and figure out what we're up against next."

I followed in silence, the echo of our footsteps the only sound in the dark, damp tunnel.