The scent of mildew and metal greeted them as they gathered by the access tunnel's edge, the Warren still asleep behind them. The first rays of dawn filtered through cracks in the buildings above, not bright enough to chase the shadows from anyone's eyes.
Grace did a quiet headcount, noting Jason's slow steps, Elliot's downcast stare, and how even Marissa, usually restless, said nothing as she adjusted her pack. The air between them felt tight.
Damian stood by the manhole, gloved hand resting on the ladder's rung. "We go in slow. Two ahead, two rear. Keep quiet."
He handed out gear. "Jason—supplies. Rachel—front scout. Grace, take point with Elliot and make sure no one drifts."
Jason accepted the bag with a neutral nod. His eyes lingered on Damian's face for a second too long, then dropped away. Sasha offered him a faint smile, saying nothing.
Inside, Jason's plan was already in motion.
In a side corridor just before entry, Jason caught Elliot's arm and pulled him back slightly.
"Look," he whispered, unfolding a grimy map. It was Sasha's patrol layout, marked with red paths and hand-drawn notes.
"I got this last night," Jason murmured. "I heard Damian. He said we're just part of a test. Said once we get to Neon, we're loose ends."
Elliot's eyes widened. "What? Are you sure?"
Jason nodded grimly. "They're not just helping us. They're using us. I think they're working for someone—maybe those DARPA government people. I've been watching them."
Elliot shook his head slowly. "That doesn't make sense… why help us then?"
Jason leaned in. "To use us, kid. When the time comes, I'll take us out. Quietly. Just follow my lead."
Ahead, Grace glanced over her shoulder. Jason quickly tucked the map away.
Rachel was flipping her coin in the tunnel light. "Wrong path," she murmured, lips barely moving.
The sewers were colder than the Warren. The air hung damp and stale, and every step echoed too long. Water trickled in distant channels, and every clang or splash sounded like it came from miles away—or just behind you.
Sasha and Damian led. Their voices were quiet, measured—just enough to guide the rest through.
Rachel flicked her coin at every fork. Heads, left. Tails, right. Jason trailed near the back, subtly nudging Elliot and Marissa toward a split they passed by, one just wide enough for them to "accidentally" explore.
Rachel's brow furrowed. She felt it. Something misaligned.
"Hold up," she said, tossing the coin once more.
Heads.
She frowned. "That's not right."
Jason smiled tightly. "Sometimes even luck needs direction."
At the next junction, it happened.
There was a metallic click—barely audible—and then the ceiling shook. With a thunderous crack, a pipe overhead burst, sending steam and debris down in a choking wave. Dust filled the tunnel.
A collapsed section caved in the midline of the group, separating Damian, Grace, and Rachel from the others.
"Get back!" Grace yelled, pulling Rachel away from the falling stones. Damian shielded them with a piece of crumpled piping, his eyes scanning the debris already. "Are you guys okay?"
On the other side, Jason coughed and waved away dust. "We're okay!" he shouted. "There's another path ahead!"
Sasha squinted through the settling rubble. "How'd you know that? Sounds almost like you have a map of the area."
Jason hesitated, then gave a lopsided shrug. "I grew up around here. I know a few back doors."
Sasha's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Really, so you even know of the underground sewers. Lucky us."
Back behind the collapse, Grace cursed under her breath, gripping the edge of the rubble.
"This was no accident."
Damian nodded, brushing off dust. "It wasn't."
Grace looked up. "You knew?"
"We had our suspicions. Janet confirmed it last night—Jason snuck out and came down here to plant something along the secondary route."
"And you let us walk into it? Why?" Grace demanded.
"To watch it play out," Damian replied calmly. "Now we know where he stands. Janet's with them. She'll manage it. We need to know if he's working for the First Sons or if he's just out for himself."
Rachel wiped blood from her cheek, eyes narrowing. "He'll make the wrong choice soon."
Damian stood. "Then we make sure we're not still here when he does."
Sasha walked ahead of the splintered group—Jason, Marissa, Elliot trailing just behind her. The tunnel widened slightly, revealing moss-covered piping and a faint glow from a rusted grate up top.
Jason was guiding with forced confidence. "This'll lead up to a service stairway. Once we're up, it's just a few blocks to the surface."
Marissa squinted. "You sure about this?"
"Positive," Jason lied.
Elliot looked between them, his grip tightening on his pack.
Sasha didn't say much. Instead, she pressed two fingers to her temple and silently pinged the Dark Stalker—its presence still cloaked, now shifting from above into the tunnels. A silent stalker, following the would-be traitor.
Jason led them toward a narrow curve.
Sasha let him.
At the turn, Sasha paused. "Strange," she said, "this wasn't on the map. Although we lost it I remember the way and this wasn't a good path if I remember correctly."
Jason flinched slightly. "Like I said… I know a few back doors."
Sasha gave him a gentle look. "You know, it's not easy leading people."
Jason shrugged. "Someone has to do it."
Sasha nodded slowly.
Inside, her mind was already counting down. The Stalker would intercept within ten meters. She just needed him to commit.
Elliot hesitated. "Janet… is this really safe?"
Sasha turned slightly, her eyes warm. "It will be. But only if we're all honest."
Jason said nothing.
Sasha kept walking.
Let's see how far you'll go before you hang yourself, she thought.