Chapter 1: The Hunt for Ethan

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Lena:

The wind howled, a low, mournful sound that seemed to cut through my bones. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, the fabric stiff with grime and blood, but the cold still found its way in. The wasteland stretched out before us, barren and unforgiving. There wasn't much left of the world anymore—just ruins and ash. But somewhere out there, beyond the broken horizon, Ethan was waiting.

And I was going to find him.

I squinted against the pale, dying light of the setting sun, scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. Nothing. Just the same endless expanse of rubble and twisted metal. It was hard to imagine that once, not too long ago, this had been a thriving city. Now, it was nothing more than a graveyard, a monument to the destruction the Directive had unleashed on the world.

The others were quiet behind me, their footsteps muffled by the dust and debris as we moved through the crumbling streets. Carter walked at my side, his face grim, his eyes scanning the landscape with the same practiced vigilance that had kept us alive for so long. He said nothing, but I could feel his worry like a weight pressing down on us.

We were close. I could feel it.

But close wasn't enough. Not anymore.

The message from Ethan—the one I'd received after Uprising—had been like a knife to the heart. It had been brief, almost cryptic, but I knew it had come from him. I could feel it in my gut; my pulse quickened when I heard his voice through the static. He was alive. And if the Directive had him, I wouldn't leave him behind.

I'd lost too much already. I wasn't losing him.

The landscape shifted as we pushed further into what was once the heart of the city. The skeletal remains of skyscrapers loomed overhead, their twisted, blackened frames casting long shadows over the streets. The smell of decay was thick in the air, mingling with the acrid stench of burning metal. It was all too familiar.

"How much farther?" Carter's voice was low, his breath visible in the cold air as he spoke.

"Not far," I muttered, glancing down at the map. The coordinates we'd gotten from one of our informants were just ahead, hidden deep within this wasteland. The Directive's stronghold—one of the last we hadn't hit yet. "We should be there by nightfall."

He nodded, but I could see the doubt in his eyes. He didn't trust the informant. Hell, I wasn't sure I did either. But it was all we had. And if there was even a chance Ethan was there, I was going to take it.

We moved in silence for the next hour, the only sound the crunch of debris beneath our boots and the occasional groan of the wind as it tore through the empty streets. The weight of the past few months hung heavy on us, pressing down like an invisible hand, threatening to crush whatever hope we had left.

I had to remind myself to breathe. To focus.

There were brief, fleeting moments when I wondered if this was all for nothing. If Ethan was gone. If we were chasing ghosts. But then I'd hear his voice in my head, feel the weight of his hand in mine, and push those thoughts away.

I couldn't afford to doubt. Not now.

"Lena."

Carter's voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see him staring off into the distance, his eyes narrowed. He gestured with his chin toward something just beyond the subsequent rise. I followed his gaze and felt my pulse quicken.

There, barely visible in the fading light, was the entrance to a tunnel—an old maintenance shaft, half-buried beneath the rubble. It looked like it had been untouched for years, but I knew better. The Directive had a knack for hiding their strongholds in plain sight, buried beneath the ruins of the old world.

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