Atlas wriggled through the narrow vent, the dusty metal pressing against his arms and legs. Every sound felt deafening in the cramped space—his breathing, the creak of the duct, the faint shuffling of Ivory ahead of him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the creatures below could hear them, too.

“Great plan, Ady,” Ivory muttered ahead of him. “I especially love the part where we get stuck in a metal death trap with no exit.”

Atlas nearly faltered mid-crawl. Ivory had never called him that before. Plenty of other people had, but hearing it from him—gritted out like it was the most natural thing in the world—made his brain stutter for a half-second.

“If you have a better idea, I’m listening,” Atlas said, forcing his voice to stay even.

Ivory just kept moving. “Oh, no. I’m fully invested now. Can’t wait for the next exciting thing to happen.”

Atlas huffed, shaking off the moment. There were more pressing matters, like not dying. But still, the name settled strangely in his mind, a tiny shift in the unspoken space between them.

They crawled in silence, the vent stretching endlessly ahead. The stale air pressed in around them, thick and suffocating. Sweat slicked Atlas’s skin, grime clinging to him like a second layer.

After a moment, Ivory spoke again, voice lower. “You good back there?”

“I’m fine.”

“Not what I asked.”

Atlas sighed. “I’m fine, Ivory.”

Ivory didn’t sound convinced, but he let it go. “Right. Fine. Crawling through a vent while being hunted by monsters. Totally fine.”

A loud clang echoed behind them. Then another.

They both froze.

Atlas’s fingers tightened around the gun. “What was that?”

Ivory turned slightly, as if he could see through the darkness. “Nothing good. Move.”

Atlas didn’t need to be told twice. The sound of their shuffling quickened, urgency settling in. The faint vibrations beneath them served as a grim reminder that they weren’t alone.

This time, however, there were more vibrations.

Atlas clenched his jaw. “Ivory—”

“I know.” His voice was sharp now. “There’s more than one.”

As if on cue, another clang echoed behind them, followed by a distant, guttural clicking. Not just one, but overlapping—like a sickening chorus.

“Faster,” Ivory hissed.

They scrambled forward, the metal groaning beneath them.

After what felt like hours, Ivory stopped. “There’s a grate ahead,” he whispered. “Looks like it drops into some kind of storage room.”

Atlas crawled up beside him, peering through the slats. The room below was dimly lit, industrial shelves stacked high with supplies.

“Think it’s safe?” Atlas asked.

Ivory exhaled through his nose. “No. But it’s better than staying here.”

Without hesitation, he pressed his shoulder against the grate and shoved. It groaned, metal shrieking against metal. Both boys winced.

“Really subtle,” Atlas muttered.

Ivory shot him a look and rolled his eyes, trying to ignore his comment.

With one final shove, the grate popped free and clattered to the floor below. Ivory dropped first, landing with a soft grunt. He winced, gripping his injured arm.

Atlas landed beside him, frowning. “You okay?”

Ivory rolled his shoulder with a wince. “Nothing I can’t handle.” His gaze flickered over Atlas, scanning him quickly. “You hurt?”

“I said I’m fine.”

Ivory narrowed his eyes but didn’t push. Instead, he turned toward one of the shelves, rummaging through a box. “Well, at least we won’t starve,” he said, holding up a dented can of peaches.

Atlas huffed a quiet laugh. “Peaches, huh?”

Ivory glanced at him before tossing the can onto a pile. “Had these all the time as a kid.” His voice softened slightly, forgetting his situation. “Hated them.”

Atlas studied him, but before he could say anything, a sound cut through the quiet.

A faint clicking.

Then another.

Atlas tensed. “Ivory.”

Ivory put the can down slowly. “I hear it.”

The clicking grew louder. Slow, deliberate. Something dragging against the floor.

Ivory grabbed Atlas by the arm and yanked him behind him. “Stay close.”

Atlas stiffened. “Ivory I—”

“Don’t argue with me right now.”

The door creaked open.

Not one, but two creatures stepped inside.

Their amber eyes gleamed. Their elongated limbs twitched, heads tilting in eerie unison.

Ivory inhaled slowly. “Oh, we’re so screwed.”

“Very reassuring, Ivory.”

One of the creatures took a step forward

Ivory held out his hand without looking away. “Give me the gun.”

Atlas blinked. “What?”

“The one in your waistband.” His voice was calm, firm. “Now.”

Atlas hesitated only for a second before yanking it free and pressing it into Ivory’s palm.

The creatures lunged.

Ivory fired. The gunshot exploded in the small room. One creature shrieked, recoiling, but the other darted forward, claws slashing through the air.

Ivory didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Atlas—without warning, he hooked an arm under Atlas’s legs and lifted him up, carrying him effortlessly as he sprinted toward the shelves.

“What the hell?!” Atlas squawked, arms flailing before instinct kicked in and he grabbed onto Ivory’s shoulders.

“Faster this way,” Ivory said, completely unfazed as he weaved through the aisles.

“Put me down!”

“Not happening.”

Atlas barely had time to process the absurdity before Ivory reached the back of the room. A rusted ladder led up to a ceiling hatch.

“Hold on,” Ivory muttered.

“To what?! I have no choice!”

Ivory didn’t respond. He shifted Atlas slightly—just enough to throw him onto the first rung of the ladder. “Climb!”

Atlas scrambled up, yanking the hatch open. He reached down, expecting Ivory to follow—

Instead, Ivory turned. Another creature had appeared in the doorway.

Atlas’s breath hitched. “Oh my god, Ivory—”

“I see it.” Ivory’s voice was clipped, eyes sharp as he raised the gun again. One shot, then two—just enough to make the thing stagger back before he grabbed the ladder and hoisted himself up.

The hatch slammed shut just as claws scraped against the metal.

Atlas collapsed onto the rooftop, gasping for breath. The night sky stretched above them, endless and dark.

Ivory sat beside him, arms resting on his knees. He was quiet for a long moment. Then, low and tired, Atlas muttered, “I hate this.”

Atlas turned his head, still catching his breath. “I know.”

Ivory exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. Then, after a beat, he huffed out a short laugh.

“Well, that was fun.” He turned his head to look at Atlas, smirking. “Let’s never do it again.”

Atlas groaned. “Deal.”

He shivered slightly, the cold night air sinking into his sweat-dampened clothes. Without a word, he shifted closer to Ivory until their arms touched.

Ivory glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

Atlas exhaled. “I’m cold.”

Ivory sighed, but after a second, he draped an arm over Atlas’s shoulders and rubbed his arm absentmindedly. His warmth seeped through the fabric, steady and grounding.

Neither of them said anything.

For now, they were alive. And that was enough.