The world blurred into rain-streaked neon as Reza's van sped away from the chaos.
Inside, the three fugitives sat in a heavy, exhausted silence.
Irfan Shah leaned his head back against the cold steel wall, closing his eyes for a moment.
The hum of the engine, the patter of rain on the roof—it all felt distant, like a fading dream.
The portable drive containing the stolen PHALANX data rested heavily in his jacket.
He could still feel the weight of the facility's alarms ringing in his bones.
Across from him, Aina Farisha sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped loosely around them.
She wasn't crying.
She wasn't panicking.
She was simply… breathing.
For all their training, for all their readiness, tonight had been real in a way that simulations never were.
They had almost died.
And deep down, both knew this was only the beginning.
Reza finally pulled the van into a derelict underground parking garage, switching off the lights.
The city above carried on obliviously, unaware of the silent war unraveling beneath its skin.
"We'll hole up here for a few hours," she said, voice low. "Too much heat on the streets."
Irfan nodded absently, barely registering her words.
His mind churned with a thousand questions.
But he couldn't focus.
Not yet.
He needed a moment—to catch his breath, to feel human again.
Sometime later, Irfan sat alone at the edge of the parking bay, staring at the city skyline through the cracks in the concrete.
The rain had slowed to a fine mist.
Neon reflections shimmered on puddles like fractured dreams.
Aina approached quietly, her footsteps soft.
She dropped down beside him without a word, handing him a small pack of emergency rations from Reza's supplies.
He accepted it silently, offering a tired smile.
For a while, they sat together, sharing the cold meal, saying nothing.
Sometimes words weren't necessary.
Sometimes presence was enough.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Aina broke the silence.
"You think we can really do this?" she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.
Irfan didn't answer immediately.
He watched the mist swirl around the crumbling buildings, the city breathing in slow, mechanical gasps.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But I know we have to try."
Aina nodded slowly, pulling her jacket tighter around her.
"I used to think the world was broken in little ways," she said softly. "But this… PHALANX… it's like finding out the cracks are everywhere, just hidden."
Irfan glanced at her.
Her face, usually unreadable, was now wide open—raw, honest.
He realized, with a sharp pang, how much she had risked following him into this madness.
"Thank you, Aina," he said quietly. "For staying. For believing."
Aina gave a short, breathless laugh.
"You think I'd let you have all the fun without me?"
But the edge in her smile betrayed the heaviness in her heart.
They both knew this wasn't just about loyalty.
It was about survival.
About standing for something when the world demanded obedience.
They had crossed a line tonight—
and there was no going back.
The drive hummed softly in Irfan's pocket, as if reminding him of the storm yet to come.
He tightened his grip around it.
Tomorrow, they would decrypt it.
Tomorrow, they would face whatever truths lay hidden inside.
But tonight—
Tonight, they would rest.
And for a few precious hours, they would remember they were still human.
Still free.
Still fighting.
Even if the world had forgotten what that meant.