Lockey and Finn moved in tense silence through the dimly lit hallway. The oppressive air of the underground facility clung to them like a second skin. The faint buzz of flickering lights and the distant hum of machinery were the only sounds accompanying their footsteps.

Finn broke the silence first, her voice cutting through the gloom. “You know,” she began, glancing at him with a sly grin, “I’m surprised you even had a heart back there. Didn’t think you’d care about the guard not helping my sister.”

Lockey’s gaze flickered to her, his expression as cold as the concrete walls around them. “Don’t get me wrong,” he replied, his tone clipped and unyielding. “I didn’t care about your sister. I got pissed because he dragged me into it.”

Finn laughed, her voice echoing faintly down the hallway. “You mean when he called us pigs, right? Guess that really got under your skin. Had to teach him a lesson, huh?”

Lockey didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he quickened his pace.

Finn rolled her eyes but changed the subject, her curiosity getting the better of her. “So, aren’t we supposed to be finding an escape route out of here? Because this,” she gestured to the seemingly endless corridor, “doesn’t scream ‘escape’ to me.”

Lockey’s eyes met hers, his expression devoid of humor. “Did you think I knew the escape route?” he asked flatly. “If I did, I would’ve left this place long ago.”

Finn stopped in her tracks, her voice rising in frustration. “Then where the hell are you going? You should’ve said something earlier! What was all that planning for, huh?”

Lockey halted as well, his gaze sharpening. “So you knew.”

Finn smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned slightly toward him. “Of course, I knew. Did you take me for a fool? A guard wouldn’t poison an inmate without good reason. It didn’t take me long to figure out it was you.”

Her voice dropped, and her expression turned dangerous. She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “The only reason I let that slide was simple—I figured I could use you to get I and my sister out of this place.”

The murderous glint in her eyes was unmistakable now, her stance coiled like a predator ready to strike.

Lockey didn’t flinch. He met her gaze with calm indifference, “No need to be so uptight,” he said, his voice laced with a faint, mocking edge. “Your time will come. Even if it takes years.”

He turned on his heel and continued walking, his shadow stretching long against the dimly lit walls.

Finn clenched her fists, her patience snapping. In a blur of motion, she lunged at him, a pen in her hand aimed directly for his throat.

Lockey’s reaction was swift. Without turning fully, his hand shot up, intercepting her strike. The pen stopped inches from his neck, his grip ironclad around her wrist.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and deadly, “test me.”

Finn’s breathing was ragged as she stared at him, her free hand trembling with suppressed rage. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

Lockey’s grip tightened for a brief moment before he let go, his cold gaze lingering on her. “If you’re done playing around, we’ve wasted enough time.”

He resumed walking without another word, his silhouette vanishing further into the dimly lit hallway.

Finn stood there for a moment, the pen still clutched tightly in her hand. Her lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. “You really do know how to get under someone’s skin, don’t you?” she muttered before following him into the darkness.

Lockey and Finn walked in silence, the long dimly lit walkway stretching endlessly before them. Each step echoed faintly, swallowed by the oppressive air of the corridor. The silence between them wasn’t companionable but tense, like the calm before a storm. Neither of them spoke until they reached the end—a cold, featureless wall loomed before them.

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Finn scoffed, her frustration bubbling over. “Don’t tell me we walked all this way just to hit a dead end.”

Lockey didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on the wall, his cold expression unchanging. In his mind, he thought, This is where the energy I’ve been sensing stops.

Before Finn could prod him further, the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Someone was coming.

Lockey’s eyes narrowed, his voice low and urgent. “Quick, hide.”

Finn twitched her lips in irritation, gesturing around them. “And where exactly do you expect us to hide? Inside the walls?”

Lockey clicked his tongue in frustration, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Shut up and hold on tight,” he said sharply.

Before she could argue, he grabbed her wrist and, with a fluid motion, leapt upward. Using his dagger as an anchor, he lodged it into the ceiling with precision. Finn clung to him, gritting her teeth as they pressed against the shadows above. The faint flickering of the overhead lights provided just enough cover.

A figure emerged from the darkness, walking with purpose toward the dead end. His long dark coat was tattered, and his face was obscured by a mask, leaving only his piercing, calculating eyes visible. The way he moved was deliberate, his steps neither hurried nor hesitant.

The figure stopped at the wall, raising a gloved hand. He pressed his palm against the cold surface, and a faint mechanical hum reverberated through the air. He input a series of commands, his movements swift and practiced. The wall hissed, splitting apart to reveal a hidden passage. Without hesitation, he disappeared into the opening, and the wall slid shut behind him, sealing the secret passage once more.

Lockey waited a few moments, ensuring the figure was gone. He then released his grip, landing lightly on the ground with Finn.

Finn brushed herself off, exhaling sharply. “That was close,” she muttered before narrowing her eyes at the now-sealed wall. “But who the hell was that? There’s no way he’s from this place.”

Lockey’s gaze lingered on the wall, his expression unreadable. He, too, had questions. That energy—it was coming from him, he thought. Who is he? And why does it feel... familiar?

Finn stepped toward the wall, placing her palm against its cold, unyielding surface. She frowned, frustration flashing across her face. “It’s not opening for me,” she muttered, slamming her fist against it in irritation.

Lockey, calm and unbothered

moved beside her. He placed his hand on the exact spot where the masked figure had pressed moments earlier. The wall shuddered, emitting a low hum, and began to slide open—but only slightly, revealing a narrow pinhole keypad embedded within.

Finn’s lips curled into a faint, confident smile. “Leave this to me.” Without waiting for a response, she stepped forward and began inputting the password with quick, precise movements.

With a soft hiss, the second metal door slid open, revealing a dimly lit passage beyond. As they walked through, Finn smirked, glancing sideways at Lockey. “Aren’t you going to ask how I knew the code?”

Lockey didn’t break stride, his tone flat and uninterested. “Glad you weren’t totally useless.”

Finn scowled, the sharpness in her voice unmistakable. “Isn’t there anything like a compliment in your dictionary?”

Lockey shrugged nonchalantly, his expression unreadable. “Maybe I don’t own a dictionary.”

The two continued forward, stepping into a vast, sterile room filled with rows of shelves that stretched endlessly like the aisles of a grand library. Instead of books, the shelves were lined with neatly arranged files and folders, each labeled meticulously.

Lockey paused, his sharp eyes scanning the room as a strange energy tugged at his senses. The energy I’ve been pursuing... I can sense it again.

Without a word to Finn, he moved to one of the shelves and pulled out a file. Flipping through the pages with cold efficiency, he scanned the contents. His brows furrowed slightly as he pieced together the information. “Experiments,” he said aloud, his voice low but clear. “These are records of experiments conducted here at Site 22. Different kinds. Both failures... and successes.”

Finn tilted her head, peering over his shoulder. “So, what are we talking about? Freaky science projects or—”

Her voice cut off as a figure stepped out from behind one of the rows. The sound of footsteps was faint but deliberate.

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it in here,” the figure said, their voice distorted by the same mask-modulator they’d used earlier.

Lockey’s eyes widened slightly—a rare crack in his composed demeanor. He immediately summoned his Universal Key, the weapon materializing as a sleek, razor-sharp dagger in his hand. His stance shifted, ready for battle.

I didn’t even sense him, Lockey thought, the realization unnerving him for a brief moment.

The figure, now fully visible in the dim light, was the same masked individual from earlier. They stood tall and unmoving, their presence exuding an unsettling calm.

Finn’s hand drifted toward her side, her fingers brushing against the pen she’d kept tucked away. “Friend of yours?” she asked Lockey, her tone sharp with sarcasm.

Lockey didn’t respond, his dagger gleaming as he tightened his grip. His cold eyes locked onto the masked figure, his voice low and dangerous. “Who are you? And why are you here?”

The figure tilted their head slightly, as if amused. “You’re asking questions when you’re the intruders. Bold.”

The tension in the room thickened, the air seeming to hum with anticipation. Lockey’s grip on his dagger tightened, and Finn’s smirk faded as her expression turned deadly serious.

The figure took a step closer. “Let’s see if you’re as dangerous as the files say, Lockey.”