4 6 - N A Z A R E T H

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The ramp descends and we follow it down, step by step, into a new world.

It smells of ash and oil, the industrialization clear with the smokestacks I see in the distance pumping out thick black clouds. We stand on a wide block of cement and make our way toward what looks to be the heart of the city. Strangely-shaped high rises linger miles ahead, some suspended in the air, their hundreds of windows emitting specks of light. Chugging fast trains slither across the sky on elevated railways, weaving in around the buildings in a systematic way. I've never seen anything like it before.

We approach a massive stone—metal?— tunnel that reaches well over twenty feet above us. It looks like it's been built from wide sheets of steel nailed or fused together. As unstable as it looks, we walk right on through, following our leader, who still sports her hot pink and black suit. Meanwhile, I'm shivering in my rags.

Brink loops his arm around my shoulder as we press on, the tunnel darkening the deeper we go. Despite our loneliness, it's not quiet. Distant generators hum nearby. Plus, the intervallic rush of the overhead trains sound every minute, the deep rumble of them against their tracks echo in here. Each time one crosses over the tunnel, I flinch, as does Brink.

Each time he does, he apologizes.

The tunnel goes near black before I spot the other end. An orange glow peeps in on the other side, and I'm assuming whatever is on the other side of this tunnel is where we need to be.

Xena continues, her pace robotic and steady. When enough light renters the space, I peek at Stella, who is all but crying. Her shoulders and heavy, her posture slouchy. Her face is a mix between sad and scared, and it hurts me seeing her so unhappy. She really believes it all ends here. That this is it. I can't help but trust her judgement.

Zeriah is too jittery for his own good. His fingers tremble and his concentration is all over the place; his eyes can't focus on one thing for too long before leapfrogging to something else. But they seem to always revert back to Xena.

I find myself involuntarily reversing my steps as we close in on the other side. Brink's arm slips off me and he turns to see what I'm doing. People who look to be soldiers await our arrival on the other end. All black and armored up. My heart is skipping and I suddenly can't find my breath.

"I can't do this," I gasp, staring at the floor.

"We don't really have a choice, Aurora," Brink answers. He meets my side and reaches his hand out to stroke my back.

I cross my arms and give myself a squeeze, but it does little to stop my anxiety. "I know," I whisper.

That's when I hear Stella choke into a small sob. I've never seen her so unstable.

Brink glances her direction, but turns back to me. "We'll get through this...somehow. But we have to stay strong. All of us," he adds, louder.

I nod. I know this. I know, but it's hard to walk into suicide without some resistance.

"I don't want to, Brink," I whimper, looking around him at the guards down the way. They stand in a wall formation, staring down the corridor, just waiting for us. I'm not sure they can see us yet.

"I know," he says, his voice earnest. "No one wants to do this."

Despite the reluctance burning in my rib cage, I have to stand straight. I have to walk. I have to finish this.

Brink takes the opportunity to place his hands around my neck and bring my lips to his for one final kiss. It's short lived and hard, but there was an uncertainty element about it that fired up my nervousness rather than subdued it. He then presses his forehead against mine. "Together," he says.

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