Jorge mutters under his breath, scanning the chaos around them. "This place has really gone through hell."

The group pushes through the thick press of bodies, moving toward the city’s entrance. The air is suffocating, thick with sweat, dust, and desperation. The shouting grows louder, voices fusing into one deafening roar.

"We just gotta stay together!" Thomas yells over the noise, his grip tightening on Katherine's wrist as they advance.

Ahead, a swarm of desperate people surges against the barricades, fists raised, voices ragged with the same desperate chant: "Let us in! Let us in! Let us in!"

Jorge glances around warily before calling out to Thomas, "This is not what you're looking for! All these people trying to find their way in, you think you're gonna find something they can’t?!"

Thomas barely looks at him, his jaw set. "Came this far. I'm not turning back now."

Frypan exhales sharply, his nerves rattled as he sidesteps a man pushing past him. "What the hell did we get ourselves into?"

Katherine stiffens, something prickling at the back of her neck. Her sharp gaze flicks over the shifting mass of people. Lurking at the edges, barely noticeable in the frenzy, are men—masked, unmoving, watching.

"This doesn’t feel right," she murmurs, eyes narrowing.

Newt catches the unease in her tone before he even follows her gaze. His fingers find hers, tightening in instinctive reassurance as he moves closer. "Hey, guys," he says, voice urgent, "we gotta go. Now."

Thomas glances back, brows furrowing. "What?"

Newt jerks his chin toward the masked figures advancing through the crowd.

Jorge swears under his breath, his instincts kicking in as his hand flies to his gun. But before he can even lift it, a deafening boom echoes from the walls, splitting the air like a thunderclap. The ground trembles beneath their feet. And then—silence.

For a heartbeat, the world seems to hold its breath.

Then chaos erupts.

Katherine flinches as people scream, shoving past one another, clawing to escape. Her heart pounds as she watches the panic spread like wildfire.

"What the hell?" she breathes, gripping Newt’s hand even tighter.

Metal groans above them. The machine guns mounted on the wall shift with eerie precision—

And lock onto the crowd.

"We gotta get out of here!" Frypan shouts, panic creeping into his voice.

The words barely leave his mouth before the first shots fire.

Bullets rain down. People collapse around them, screams morphing into agonized cries. The ground is slick, the air thick with dust and blood.

"Move your ass, you imbecile!" Katherine snarls, grabbing Thomas's arm and yanking him backward just as a bullet grazes where he stood a second ago.

Thomas blinks, coming to his senses, and they bolt.

Katherine keeps her head down, weaving through bodies, dodging the explosions that send chunks of pavement flying. But in the madness—

Newt’s hand slips from hers.

She whirls around. "Newt!"

The wave of panicked bodies pushes her back. Her breath quickens as she scans the mayhem, desperate for a glimpse of blond hair—

A pair of hands clamp around her arms.

"Get your hands off me!" Katherine thrashes, twisting violently. Another set of hands grips her, yanking her back before she can strike. "Let go of me!"

"She’s the feisty one. Be careful," one of the masked men grunts, tightening his grip as she kicks out, barely missing his knee.

Cold fear spikes through her as she’s dragged backward. Her heart slams against her ribs as she’s shoved inside a van. The doors slam shut with a resounding bang.

And then—

Warm arms pull her in. "Kat."

Newt’s voice is hoarse, breathless with relief as he gathers her against him. She clings to him for a split second, heartbeat matching his, before the van lurches forward.

The ride is rough, jostling them as they struggle to stay upright. When it finally screeches to a stop, they’re shoved out, the night air hitting them like a slap.

Katherine stumbles slightly, but her gaze locks onto the figures already standing there—

Thomas. Frypan. Brenda. Unharmed.

The tension in her chest eases for a moment, but then she looks around. High walls loom around them, masked men stationed at every exit, rifles at the ready.

A second van pulls up. The doors burst open—

Jorge lunges out, tackling one of the masked men to the ground.

"Where is she, you son of a bitch?!" Jorge’s fists fly, rage pouring out of him in every blow.

"Shit!" Thomas rushes forward. "Hey! Wait!"

Before anyone else can react, more masked men close in, guns raised.

"Step back!" one of them orders, forcing Katherine and the others away as Jorge snarls, his fist still poised to strike.

"I'm right here! I'm right here!" Brenda’s voice cuts through the chaos as she stumbles forward, eyes wide and frantic.

Jorge freezes, chest heaving, before dropping his fist.

"Everybody relax," a muffled voice calls. One of the masked men steps forward, his hand resting on his gun. "We’re all on the same side here."

Thomas lets out a dry, humorless laugh. "Same side? Who the hell are you?"

Katherine groans internally at her brother’s habit of challenging people when they have all the guns.

Silence stretches. Then—

The man lifts his hands, slowly removing his mask.

The world seems to tilt slightly.

"Hey, Greenie."

Thomas goes rigid.

Katherine’s breath catches as her mind scrambles to make sense of what she’s seeing.

Gally. Standing there, very much alive.

"Gally?" Thomas’s voice is barely above a whisper, disbelieving.

Katherine stares. He should be dead. He was dead. They saw him die.

Then, suddenly, Thomas moves.

And before anyone can stop him, his fist crashes into Gally’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.

A smirk tugs at the corner of Katherine’s lips. Until the guns all swing toward Thomas.

Newt steps in, grabbing Thomas’s arm just as he raises his fist for another blow. "Stop. Stop."

"He killed Chuck!" Thomas snarls, voice raw with rage.

Newt’s grip tightens. "Yeah, I know. I remember. I was there too, all right?" His voice drops, steady but urgent. "But I also remember that he was stung and half out of his mind. Just calm down."

Gally groans, rubbing his jaw as he sits up. "Kind of had that coming," he mutters. "Anybody else? Kat? Fry? Newt?"

"Do you know this guy?" Jorge asks warily.

"He was an old friend," Katherine mutters, irritation threading through her tone.

Newt folds his arms. "How? How is this possible? We watched you die."

Gally meets his gaze, jaw tightening. "No. You left me to die."

A beat of silence.

"And if we hadn't found you when we did, you'd be dead right now. What the hell are you doing here?"

Newt doesn’t hesitate. "Minho. WICKED has him here. We’re looking for a way in."

Gally exhales, eyes flicking toward the city walls. "I can help with that. Follow me."

Gally barely gets two steps ahead before Thomas stiffens, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

He doesn’t raise his voice, but the weight behind it is enough to make Gally stop. He turns back, expression unreadable, before shrugging.

"Suit yourself. But I can get you through those walls."

Silence stretches between them like a chasm. Katherine shifts her weight, her arms crossed tight over her chest. She can feel the tension crackling between Thomas and Gally like a live wire, and it makes her itch. The trust she has in Gally is still lower than the dust clinging to her boots, but there’s no other choice. Not really.

She exhales sharply. "Alright, Gally. Show us what you got."

Gally nods once, then signals for them to follow. As they weave through the makeshift hideout, he starts talking, his voice low and steady.

"After the Maze, I got picked up by a group heading for the city. They realized I was immune, patched me up, and brought me here to Lawrence. This group's been at war with WICKED ever since they took control of the city. But WICKED can’t hide behind those walls forever. Day’s gonna come, and they’re gonna pay for what they’ve done."

He leads them across a narrow, rusted balcony overlooking the dimly lit streets below. The city is a fractured skeleton of its former self—buildings stripped down to their bones, flickering fires casting eerie shadows against the cracked pavement. The group keeps close, instinctively moving in sync, a quiet show of trust forged through survival.

Gally stops at a metal door, his hand hovering over the handle. He glances back at them. "Listen, uh, he doesn’t get a lot of visitors. Let me do the talking. All right? And try not to stare."

They exchange wary looks before stepping inside.

The room is a strange contrast to the desolation outside. Flowers bloom in ceramic pots, their petals soft and wilting, while dusty shelves groan under the weight of books and scattered relics. A man sits in the center, half-hidden in the shadows, his voice a low murmur, repeating the same phrase over and over like a broken record. Then he looks up. "Gally. Glad to see you made it back. Jasper told me what happened."

Gally exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. "It was a slaughter. There’s nothing we could do against those guns."

The man hums, plucking a rose from a nearby pot and bringing it to what remains of his nose, inhaling deeply. His face is marred by decay, veins blackened and skin stretched thin over hollowed bones. "No, but they can only poke the hornet’s nest so long before they get stung." His attention shifts, sharp and assessing, to the rest of them. "Now, who are these people? Why are they here?"

Katherine swallows hard, her stomach twisting as she takes in the IV attached to his bare, withered arm. The liquid inside is a luminous blue, pulsing softly as it drips into his veins.

Thomas steps forward, his tone careful but firm. "We need to get into WICKED. Gally said you can get us through the walls."

"Gally should know better than to make promises he can’t keep," Lawrence murmurs, setting the IV bag down with deliberate slowness. "Besides, that wall is only half your problem. Getting inside WICKED is impossible."

"There might be a way now," Gally argues, nodding toward Thomas. "But it doesn’t work without him."

Lawrence studies Thomas, his gaze piercing. "Is that so? Do you know what I am… Thomas?" He takes a slow step forward, emerging fully from the shadows, his infected skin ghostly under the dim light. "I am a businessman. Which means I don’t take unnecessary risks. Why should I trust you?"

Thomas doesn’t flinch. "Because I can help you. If you can get me through those walls… I can get you what you need."

Lawrence tilts his head, curious. "And what is it you think I need?"

"Time. Every last drop."

A low chuckle rumbles from Lawrence’s throat. "Is that what I need?"

"WICKED has something we both want," Thomas presses, eyes locked on Lawrence’s.

Lawrence lets the silence stretch, considering. Then, finally, he exhales. "I'll tell you what. Two can go for now. The rest stay here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you find your way back. We have a deal?"

He extends a hand, fingers partially rotted, but Thomas doesn’t hesitate. He grips it firmly, sealing the agreement. For the first time, something like trust flickers in Lawrence’s eyes. He smiles, a ghost of a grin. "Gally, show him the way."

The group splinters, some staying behind while Gally leads the rest down a dimly lit hallway. The tension is thick, pressing against Katherine’s ribs. She trails behind, her fingers ghosting over the hilt of Newt’s blade—his blade. He hasn’t even noticed she took it, and she isn’t sure whether to feel proud or guilty.

The hallway is lined with empty rooms, doors half-hinged and walls scarred by time. Gally reaches a door at the far end and unlocks it, pushing it open.

That’s when Katherine moves.

In a flash, she slams Gally against the wall, the blade pressing hard against his throat. He exhales sharply but doesn’t fight back, only smirks as if he expected this.

"What are you planning?" she demands, her voice steady but edged with something dangerous.

Gally’s smirk widens. "There she is. I was wondering what took you so long."

Katherine presses the blade in deeper, just enough to make her point. "Don’t play games with me, Gally—why are you helping us?”

Gally lets out a dry chuckle but winces slightly as the blade bites in. “Geez, Kat. What makes you think I’m planning anything?”

Her eyes narrow. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve given you a black eye, humiliated you in front of everyone, kicked your balls, and oh, let’s not forget the part where I sent a spike into your chest.” Her voice is low, dangerous. “So forgive me if I find it a little hard to believe that you’re just feeling generous.”

“Kat, let him go,” Newt urges from behind, his voice steady but edged with worry. “It’s not worth it.”

“No,” Katherine snaps, her grip on the knife unwavering. “I want answers. Right now.”

Gally’s gaze sweeps across the group, reading their expressions, before he finally exhales, his body loosening. “Let’s get something straight before we go any further.” His voice is different now, stripped of sarcasm. “I know what I did. Okay? I remember. I see Chuck’s face every time I close my eyes.”

The room falls silent. The weight of his words lingers, sinking into their bones like lead.

“We don’t have to be friends,” Gally continues, jaw tightening. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m asking for a chance to put it behind us because right now, we want the same thing. And after this, we go our separate ways. But until then, none of this works unless we trust each other.”

Katherine glances at Thomas. Her twin. The one person in the world she trusts beyond question. He gives her a small, almost imperceptible nod.

She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and steps back, lowering the blade. “Okay.”

Gally rubs his throat with a half-smirk before moving toward the shaft in the room. “Thank you. Now, let’s get moving.” He yanks open the hatch and peers inside before slipping into the darkness below.

Thomas crouches beside the opening, throwing one last glance at his sister. Katherine meets his eyes, the unspoken understanding between them stretching across the small distance. He doesn’t have to say it. She already knows—be careful.

She nods. “Don’t do anything stupid, Tommy.”

Thomas huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head before disappearing down the shaft.

Katherine turns, only to find Newt struggling with his shoelaces. His fingers shake, his movements slow and unsteady. She frowns and kneels in front of him, brushing his hands aside. “Scared already, big boy?”

Newt lets out a nervous chuckle, though it lacks his usual lightness. “Kind of.”

She finishes tying his laces and pulls him to his feet, but something feels off. His eyes won’t meet hers, and there’s tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before. Katherine’s stomach tightens. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, but it’s a lie. She can feel it.

Her grip tightens on his hands. “Newt, you know I hate repeating myself, but for you, I’ll make an exception. What’s wrong?”

His jaw clenches. For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. Then, just as she’s about to push again, he exhales, the fight leaving his body. “I’ll tell you later, okay? This isn’t the time. Not yet.”

She opens her mouth, ready to argue, but before she can, he steps forward, cupping her face and kissing her with a force that steals her breath away.

Katherine melts into him, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as she pulls him closer. Every second ignites something deeper, something raw and unshaken despite the chaos around them. Newt holds her like she’s the only thing keeping him together, his hands firm on her waist, his touch desperate yet reverent. They drink each other in, a silent promise sealed between their lips—you’re mine, and I’m yours.

When they finally break apart, Katherine’s lungs burn, but she barely notices. Newt’s eyes are on her, bright and intense, as if memorizing her face.

“Come back safely,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “We’re not done here.”

A slow smile tugs at his lips. “Can’t wait.”

He presses one last lingering kiss against her forehead before pulling away entirely, leaving Katherine standing there, heart hammering as she watches him disappear into the darkness beyond.

She exhales sharply and steels herself, her mind already counting down the moments until she can hold him again.