The moment their eyes met—
Ty moved.
Instinct over thought. Survival over hesitation.
He turned sharply, boots scraping against rough concrete as he launched himself into a sprint. The rooftop stretched ahead in broken lines—cracks, debris, rusted vents—but his body adjusted without effort, weaving through it all like he'd done it a thousand times before.
Behind him—
"Move!"
"Don't let him get away—!"
Gunfire exploded through the air.
A bullet whistled past his ear, so close it cut the wind beside his skin. Another struck the ground near his foot, sparks snapping upward.
Ty didn't look back.
Looking back got you killed.
The edge of the building rushed toward him.
He didn't slow. Didn't hesitate.
One final step—
And he jumped.
For a split second, there was nothing beneath him but empty air and the long drop to the street below. Wind rushed violently past him.
Then—
Click.
The grappling mechanism attached beneath his rifle fired with a sharp metallic snap. The hook shot forward, the cable uncoiling rapidly until it latched onto the ledge of the next building with a solid clang.
Ty's body jerked as the line caught.
He swung forward, momentum carrying him across the gap. The city stretched below him—cars overturned, streets cracked, bodies long since decayed into nothing but stains.
Another shot rang out.
Pain tore through his side. A sharp, burning line where the bullet grazed him, slicing through cloth and skin alike.
Ty's jaw tightened.
He didn't slow.
Didn't falter.
His boots slammed into the wall of the next building, absorbing the impact as he pushed upward, fingers catching the ledge. Muscles strained as he pulled himself up in one fluid motion, rolling onto the rooftop without breaking pace.
Gunfire followed.
Closer now.
Ty ran again, crossing the rooftop before dropping low behind a raised concrete ledge.
His chest rose and fell—not fast, not panicked—just steady.
He unslung his rifle, movements practiced despite the dull throb in his side.
Silence.
For half a breath.
Then—
Ty moved.
He rose just enough for his eye to meet the scope, the world narrowing instantly. The chaos, the city, the pain—gone.
Only the target remained.
A figure below, weapon raised, scanning—
Ty exhaled.
And fired.
The shot cracked through the air, clean and precise.
The man dropped instantly.
No struggle.
No second chance.
Ty ducked back down immediately, pressing himself against the concrete.
Silence returned and he stayed completely still.
Listening.
Time stretched, slow and heavy.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
The city hightened his senses in faint, distant sounds—the creak of broken structures, the whisper of wind dragging debris across asphalt.
But no footsteps.
No voices.
No gunfire.
Ty didn't trust it.
He shifted slightly, just enough to adjust his grip on the rifle, ignoring the sting in his side where blood had begun to soak into his shirt.
It wasn't deep so he didn't care.
Infection was always the real threat.
Twenty minutes passed.
Still nothing.
Too quiet.
His eyes flicked toward the edge of the rooftop.
Then—
A sound.
Faint.
Metal scraping against concrete. Ty's head snapped toward it instantly.
Someone was climbing.
His body reacted before his mind could catch up. He pushed up from the ground, rifle lifting smoothly into position—
But his focus went up.
Not down. And that was his mistake.
Two figures were still below.
Hidden.
Waiting.
Watching.
The second Ty exposed himself—thwip.
A soft, almost harmless sound struck his neck.
Ty froze.
For a second, it didn't hurt. Didn't feel like anything.
Then—
Cold.
It spread fast.
Too fast.
His fingers tightened instinctively around the rifle before loosening, strength slipping from them like water through open hands. His grip faltered, the weapon dipping slightly.
"…no…"
The word came out quieter than he expected.
His body felt… heavy and worn.
The cold crawled from his neck down his spine, seeping into his chest, his arms, his legs. His breathing slowed, each inhale shallow, desperate.
His vision blurred at the edges. The world tilted slightly, like the ground beneath him wasn't steady anymore.
He staggered back a step. Then another.
The sound of movement reached him again
—
The climber.
Ty forced his head up, vision struggling to focus as a figure pulled themselves over the edge of the roof. Boots hit the ground with a dull thud.
Another followed.
Shadows at first.
Then shapes.
His body tried to respond. Tried to lift the rifle, but his arm didn't obey.
The weapon slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground with a clatter that sounded far too loud in his ears.
The cold had reached his chest now. His heartbeat felt slow.
A figure stepped closer. Dark combat gear. Reinforced. Worn but in good condition.
A lion tattoo curved along their arm.
Ty blinked hard, forcing his eyes to focus but his legs gave out before he even had the chance.
He dropped to his knees, the impact sending a dull shock through his body. His hand pressed weakly against the ground, fingers trembling as he tried—tried—to push himself back up.
Didn't work.
The world dimmed further. Sound faded into a low, distant hum.
Another figure moved into view.
Then another.
Boots surrounded him now. Voices—muffled, distorted.
"…alive—"
"…careful—"
"…leader—"
Leader.
The word echoed strangely in his mind.
Ty's vision flickered.
Dark.
Light.
Then the world collapsed and everything went black.