The Facility

The tunnel felt endless, a twisting labyrinth of shadows and stale air. My boots scraped against the uneven floor, echoing faintly as we pressed forward. Every so often, a distant growl rumbled through the walls, a grim reminder that the infected weren't far behind.

Lecroix stayed close beside me, his presence steady and reassuring, though he barely said a word. It was in the way he walked slightly ahead, always checking the path, making sure I was never out of reach.

I tried to shake the thoughts clouding my mind—Phase Two, the infection, my role in all of it—but Lecroix's calm presence kept pulling me back to now. To him.

"Liberty," his voice broke through the silence, soft and low. "You okay?"

I nodded, even though I wasn't sure if it was true. "Just... trying to figure out what's next."

Lecroix's lips curled slightly, a half-smile that sent warmth through me despite the cold air. "You don't always have to know what's next."

I gave a soft huff, part laugh, part exhaustion. "Tell that to the part of me that always needs to be five steps ahead."

He glanced at me, and for a moment, the space between us shrank—not physically, but in a way that felt heavier, more meaningful. It was the kind of closeness that didn't need words, only moments.

We paused at a junction where two tunnels met, the air thinner and colder. Lecroix leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. I could feel the quiet hum of tension between us, subtle but undeniable.

"You know," he murmured, glancing down at me, "you don't have to carry this alone."

The sincerity in his voice made something stir inside me—something I thought had gone quiet long ago.

"I've carried things on my own for so long, I'm not sure I remember how to stop," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Lecroix turned slightly, his eyes meeting mine. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding.

"You don't have to be that person all the time," he said quietly. "Not with me."

I felt my chest tighten, the weight of his words settling over me in a way I hadn't expected. It wasn't just a promise—it was an invitation.

We kept moving, winding deeper into the tunnels until the walls began to shift—smooth metal replacing crumbling stone. The air grew colder, laced with the scent of machinery and chemicals, and I knew we were getting close to the underground facility.

Zeke's flashlight flickered across a set of doors up ahead—thick steel with faded warning symbols etched along the surface. Apollo knelt beside them, inspecting the rusted lock.

"This is it," Zeke whispered. His voice was tight, a mix of relief and dread. "We're close."

Lecroix moved past him, brushing his fingers over the worn metal. He didn't say anything, but I could see the shift in his posture—the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened.

Whatever waited beyond those doors wasn't going to be easy.

The low rumble of infected footsteps echoed from behind us, sending chills down my spine. I felt Lecroix's hand on my arm—a light touch, but enough to pull me from my spiraling thoughts.

"Stay with me," he whispered, his gaze locking onto mine.

There was something in his eyes—something steady, something unyielding—that made me believe we could make it through whatever came next.

Before I could respond, the air shifted—a cold gust sweeping through the tunnel as if the facility itself was exhaling, waking.

And then we heard it: a monstrous growl, deeper and more guttural than anything we had encountered before.

The infected were coming—and this time, they weren't just mindless creatures. They were hunting.

"We don't have much time," Zeke muttered, checking his tablet. "Once I get this door open, we need to move fast."

Apollo gave Lecroix a wary glance. "What happens if we don't make it inside?"

Lecroix's expression didn't change, but his gaze flicked toward me for the briefest moment. "Then we make sure she gets through, no matter what."

The weight of his words hit me hard, but it wasn't just the responsibility of the mission that settled in my chest. It was the realization that Lecroix meant it—that he would put himself between me and whatever came next without hesitation.

Lecroix's hand brushed mine again, a fleeting touch that felt deliberate, grounding. In the dim light of the tunnel, surrounded by danger, it was the only thing that felt certain.

"I'm with you," he said softly. "All the way."

I squeezed his hand briefly, a silent acknowledgment that I felt the same. Whatever lay beyond those doors—we'd face it together.

Zeke's tablet beeped, and the lock clicked with a metallic snap. The door groaned open, revealing a long, dark corridor lined with flickering lights. The facility stretched beyond, silent and waiting.

And somewhere deep within, the infection pulsed, alive and evolving.

"Let's move," Lecroix murmured, his hand still lingering near mine.

As we stepped inside, the door groaned shut behind us, sealing us within. There was no turning back now.

And just as we took our first steps into the unknown, a sound unlike anything we had heard before echoed through the dark—a monstrous howl, guttural and inhuman.

The infected had followed us inside. And this time, they weren't just hunting. They were waiting.