Feral → newt, tmr

Chapter 32: Losing The Sanity

Frypan stumbles out of the city with the group, his breath heavy, his eyes darting between the others. The underground tunnels loom ahead, dark and hollow. But something feels off. Too quiet. Too empty. The silence stretches around them like a predator waiting to pounce.

"Lawrence!" Frypan’s voice ricochets through the underground base, but the only response is his own echo. His heart pounds. Something isn’t right.

"Where is everyone?" His voice is gruff, a mix of exhaustion and rising fear.

"Wait here, guys. Just—wait." Brenda throws an arm out, stopping the younger ones from stepping any further. Her body is tense, eyes sharp as she scans for movement. "Thomas!" she calls, voice tinged with urgency.

"Lawrence!" Frypan tries again, his tone more desperate this time. Nothing. He turns to Katherine, his face grim. "Everything’s gone."

A cold wave crashes through Katherine’s chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Her brother—Newt—the others. Were they safe? Had something happened? She doesn’t waste another second. Her fingers grip the walkie-talkie tight, knuckles white.

"Tommy, are you there? It’s Kat." Her voice is steady, but inside, she’s unraveling.

Static. Dead air.

She presses the button again, harder, like it’ll make a difference. "Tommy, are you in? It’s Kat. Do you copy?"

Then, finally—

"Yeah. Kat, hey. I’m here." Thomas’s voice crackles through, muffled but there.

Her shoulders sag in relief, but it’s short-lived. "Where the hell are you guys?"

"We’re on the way to the tunnels now." His voice is strained, like he’s moving fast.

"How’s he?" She doesn’t say Newt’s name. She doesn’t have to. Thomas knows who she means. She clings to the hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s good news for once.

But she’s out of luck.

"It’s getting worse." Thomas’s hesitation is answer enough.

Her throat tightens. She swallows, pushing down the fear clawing up her spine. "Is he hearing this?"

A pause. Then—"Yes."

She forces herself to breathe. "Okay." Then, softer, like the words are fragile, meant only for him—"Newt, baby. Just hold on and don’t lose—"

"I know. I won’t lose hope on us." Newt’s voice is weak but steady. A promise.

A shaky breath slips past her lips. Hearing him makes it real—makes it hurt. But she smiles anyway, because she needs to. "Good. That."

She shifts gears, forcing herself back into the moment. "Tommy. One more thing. Something’s wrong. Lawrence is gone."

Gally’s voice filters through the static, suspicious. "What is she talking about?"

Katherine doesn’t hesitate. "Him, his crew. Everything’s cleared out. It’s weird. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you need to get the hell out of there. Now."