The boy.
The others.
Not surviving anymore.
Fighting back.
Clay laughs softly beside me.
“There’s your revolution.”
Maybe.
God, I hope so.
We rush from the reactor chamber into collapsing maintenance corridors while warning sirens scream through Ascension.
Steam floods the hallways now.
Concrete splits beneath our boots.
Dust clouds choke the air.
But somewhere above us—
children are escaping.
And somehow that keeps all of us moving.
Russ leads the way through the maintenance tunnels while Gabriel follows clutching the evidence drives like they contain the fate of the world.
Which honestly?
Maybe they do.
We round the final corridor toward Sector Twelve—
—and stop cold.
Because the freight tunnel doors are open.
Children pour through the underground passage toward the old subway escape route.
Dozens of them.
Wrapped in emergency blankets.
Helping each other walk.
Carrying younger kids in their arms.
Not soldiers.
Not assets.
Children.
The teenage girl spots us first.
