"It's happening!"

"What?" Elara barely looked up from the tangled mess of wires. Static crackled faintly through her homemade communicator.

"We're all gonna die!" The words came through breathless, distorted by the poor signal.

"Niall, what the f*ck are you talking about?" Elara muttered, irritation creeping into her voice. She didn't particularly care for a conversation with her ex-co-worker—especially not one who doomed humanity.

"The world is ending!"

She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Yeah, right. Like in 2012 when the Mayan calendar ended? Or when everyone thought Y2K was going to send us back to the Stone Age?" The wires sparked, and she winced, yanking her hand back.

"Elara, this time it's real." Niall's tone was lower, more serious, like he was trying to steady himself. "I've seen the logs."

Something about the way he said it made her pause. She leaned back, frowning. "What do you mean, 'real'? Be specific."

There was a brief silence on the line, punctuated by the faint hum of background interference. She could almost picture Niall, surrounded by monitors and data streams. His nervous breathing filtered through before he finally spoke.

"The aliens are coming." he whispered through the line.

She stared at the sparking wires of her half-repaired solar generator, her jaw tightening. "Goodbye, Dr. Renton."

"Elara, wait!" His desperation spilled into the static, but she'd already flicked the switch, cutting him off.

Elara throws the communicator between the shattered tools before walking to the window, staring at the grey sky. "Aliens," she muttered under her breath, the word tasting like something sour.

She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders, scanning the horizon. Her dreary house was located on the edge of a once-bustling city, now a steel-and-vine graveyard

"Aliens," she muttered again, shaking her head.

A sharp crack echoed outside—stone on stone. Elara's heart jolted. She dropped on the floor, the cold concrete pressing against her palms as she crawled to hide under the nearby table. She held her breath, ready for any kind of intruder to attack.

Nothing. Just the wind blowing roughly against the walls of the old building.

Elara stayed under the table longer than she would care to admit. The silence outside grew heavier, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Slowly and carefully she crawled out of her hiding spot, her joints ache in protest while she made her way back to the window.

The grey horizon was as lifeless as before, save for a faint ripple in the air. She squinted but saw nothing definitive. Shaking her head, she turned away, muttering, "paranoia is contagious."

She busied herself with the sparking generator, her hands moving on autopilot. Niall's voice still echoed in her mind, digging up half-buried memories of events that had happened years ago. Like the instant crop recovery after the war, the many reports of human-like figures roaming the shadows, the unexplainable light flashes in the middle of the night, the first attack.

Over a year ago, the first hunters appeared on earth. At first the kills were slow, but over time they happened more often. The city emptied, people tried to escape it by running to the woods. Earth is slowly being ripped off its population.

The sharp clink of a metal tool hitting the floor snapped her out of her thoughts. She cursed under her breath and picked it up, gripping it tightly. The communicator still sat amidst her tools, blinking faintly, as if calling her. She hesitated, then scooped it up and turned it back on.

"Renton, are you there?"

Elara waited for an answer.

"Niall come in, d*mn it!"

The low rumble of an engine cut through the stillness, followed by the crunch of gravel under heavy tires. Elara's survival instincts took over as she grabbed one of the heavy tools on the table. And hid behind the door, ready to attack.

Ever since she resigned, she had been living under the radar, nobody knew her residence address. Only those a**holes would know where she was.

The engine cut off abruptly, plunging the world into silence. Elara strained her ears, gripping the wrench tighter.

A car door creaked open, the heavy thud of boots on gravel. Followed by a polite knock.

Elara froze. A polite knock? That wasn't what she was expecting.

Her grip on the wrench tightened, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"Elara, I know you're in there," a familiar voice called out, muffled by the door.

Niall.

"Come on Elara, it's an emergency!" His tone is more urgent than commanding.

She clenched her jaw, considering her options. His voice carried a sincerity that tugged at her nerves, but she couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. Survival had taught her to trust her instincts.

"What kind of emergency?" she called through the door, her voice sharp.

A pause. "Just let me in. We don't have time."

Time. The word pricked at something deep in her mind, but she shoved the feeling aside. Elara's fingers hovered over the latch. "If you're lying to me—"

"I'm not!" Niall interrupted. "Elara, for once, trust me."

"Trust you?" Elara's jaw clenched. "Like when you stole my work and sold it to the elites, only for you to get a promotion?"

Niall's response was immediate, though tinged with desperation. "That's not what happened—"

"Save it," Elara snapped, her voice a low growl. "You lied to me then. Give me one reason to believe you're not lying now."

There was silence from the other side of the door, broken only by the faint rustle of wind.

"My sons, Elara." Niall said finally, his tone weary but urgent. "My boys are what's at stake."

Elara's mind raced. Niall was a manipulator, that much hadn't changed. But the fear in his voice, the subtle cracks in his usually polished tone, spoke to something genuine. For all his flaws, Niall wasn't prone to reckless panic.

Elara's hand trembled on the latch. She hesitated for one last moment, then yanked the door open. Niall stood there, hunched against the biting wind, his face drawn and pale.

"You look like hell," Elara muttered.

Niall stepped inside, his boots tracking mud onto the cracked floor. He didn't respond to her quip, his green eyes darting nervously around the room.

"Nice place," he said flatly, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Didn't think you'd trade a lab full of million-dollar equipment for post-apocalyptic chic."

"Cut the cr*p, Renton. Start talking." Elara slammed the door and crossed her arms, her grey eyes boring into him.

"We need to hurry, get packed." His voice was shaking, he moved nervously around the room, like he was scared.

Elara narrowed her eyes, her arms still crossed. "You show up here unannounced, and you want me to just pack up and follow you? I don't think so. Explain yourself."

Niall glanced nervously at the door. "There is no time. If we don't leave now, they'll find us."

"I've managed just fine without you, and I'm not about to uproot my life because you suddenly decided to care about someone other than yourself." She said coolly, leaning against the wall.

Niall sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Elara, I know you don't trust me, but this is bigger than you or me. They're not hunting people randomly—they have a list. Names, locations, families. Everyone who they need to be gone, and you're on it."

"Why me?"

"You're a scientist," Niall said, his tone softening slightly. "And there is no one who can recreate what you made."

"I left that world behind," she said flatly.

"It caught up to you anyway," Niall replied. His pacing grew more erratic, his eyes darting between the windows and the door. "We don't have time for this. They're closer than I thought."

"Define 'close'." Elara snapped, shoving tools and spare parts into her satchel.

He swallowed hard. "Possibly already in the city."

Elara's breath hitched, but she forced her hands to keep moving, tightening the straps of her satchel and slinging it over her shoulder. She glanced at Niall's pale, anxious face. She didn't trust him, not one bit, but his fear—raw and barely concealed—made it harder to dismiss him.

"Nice truck." Elara commented sarcastically, motioning vaguely towards the distant silhouette of a battered all-terrain truck.

"It's shielded, fast, and rigged to block most tracking systems." Niall replied proudly.

"Most?" Elara's voice was sharp.

He flinched but held her gaze. "It's the best I could do on short notice."

Before she could respond, a distant, unnatural sound split the air—a sharp, keening wail that made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. Niall's face blanched, and he hissed, "They're here."

Her stomach dropped as the sound repeated, closer this time. She couldn't afford to hesitate. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him toward the truck. "Start it. Now."

Elara muttered curses underneath her breath as the distant keening wail grew louder. Gravel sprayed in every direction as the truck veered onto the cracked road, bouncing violently over the uneven terrain.

A movement in the road ahead caught them off guard. Niall slammed on the brakes, the truck skidding to a halt. A small figure darted into the headlights—a girl, no older than twelve.

Elara froze, her heart quickening. She glanced at Niall, who's hand was drifting to a small tool clenched to his belt. Elara looked back at the figure, her dark hair a tangled mess and her oversized jacket hanging loosely off her wiry frame. Wide, frightened eyes met Elara's, and the girl raised her hands slowly, clutching a battered music box.

"Stop!" Elara barked, her voice sharper than she intended, taking Niall's wrist, to hold him back. "She's just a kid."

"One that will get us killed." Niall responded.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Elara's mind raced as she took in the girl's hollow cheeks, her dirt-streaked face, and the way she clutched the music box like a lifeline.

Gravel crushed under her foot as Elara pushed open the door and stepped out into the chilled night air, her wrench dangling loosely from her hand. Her breath clouded the cold air as she approached the young girl.

"Hey," she called softly, crouching a few feet away. "It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you."

The girl didn't move. Her fingers clutched the music box tighter, her wide eyes darting between Elara and the truck. Elara could feel Niall's impatient glare burning into her back.

"Elara," he hissed from inside. "We don't have time for this."

She ignored him, shifting slightly to seem less threatening. "What's your name?" Elara asked gently.

The girl hesitated, then mumbled, "Briana."

Elara's chest tightened. There was something in the child's voice—a tremor of fear and resilience—that stirred something long buried. She couldn't stop the flash of an old memory: a little girl in a small voice, calling her "Mommy?"

"Briana," she repeated softly. "You're out here alone?"

The girl nodded, her small form trembling. Elara glanced at the truck, where Niall was gesturing wildly for her to hurry. "I'm going to help you," she said, her voice firm. "But you have to come with me. It's not safe out here."

Briana hesitated, her gaze flicking back to the truck. Slowly, she stepped forward, her movements stiff and cautious. Elara reached out a hand, and after a long moment, Briana took it.

"Elara," Niall growled. "This is suicide. We can't afford to—"

"Shut up," Elara snapped, slamming the door behind her. She turned to Briana, her voice softening. "Stay low and keep quiet, okay?"

The girl nodded, clutching her music box as she slid into the seat. Elara took her place in the passenger seat, glaring at Niall. "Drive."

Niall's knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel. "You've doomed us both," he muttered, slamming the truck into gear and tearing down the ruined road. "One child? You're risking everything for one—"

"She's a survivor," Elara snapped, her tone steel.

"You think she's going to make it?" Niall shot back, his voice rising. "You're Going to regret this, Elara. Your daughter died, you have to let it go!"

Elara turned to face him, her eyes blazing. "I don't need you to understand, Niall. You don't care about anyone but yourself. But I'm not leaving her behind."

Niall clenched his jaw. "Fine," he spat. "But when it comes down to it, don't expect me to risk my life for her."

"You've made that clear," Elara said coldly. She reached out to touch Briana's hand briefly, her voice softening. "Don't listen to him."

Briana didn't respond. The truck rumbled onward, the silence heavy and fraught.

"How did you get that?" Elara motions to the music box.

"I found it," Briana responded quietly.

"It's broken." Niall interrupts the conversation, clearly unamused. "And useless."

"Even broken things can be pretty." Briana defended the trinket.

"I can fix it." Elara whispers, smiling softly.

Briana's eyes lit up, clutching the music box closer. "Really?"

Elara nodded, her voice soft but firm. "Not now, but when we're safe."

"Safe," Briana echoed, her small smile faltering as she stared out at the desolate landscape. "Do you think we'll ever be safe?"

Elara hesitated. "I don't know," she admitted, her tone steady. "But I'll try my best to keep you safe."

Niall snorted from the driver's seat.

Briana's fingers traced the box's edges. "It's broken, isn't it?" she asked, her voice small.

"I can fix it," Elara said softly. "My daughter had one like it. She used to wind it up every night."

Briana looked up, curiosity sparking behind her eyes. "What happened to it?"

Elara swallowed hard. "I never got the chance to fix it." She placed a hand over Briana's, squeezing gently. "But I will fix this one. I promise."

Briana nodded, a tiny flicker of trust passing between them.

The truck ground to a halt, its headlights illuminating a squat, reinforced bunker nestled against a rocky cliff. Niall killed the engine and turned to them, his expression tight. "We need to get inside. Now."

Elara narrowed her eyes. "You seem awfully sure about this place."

Niall's jaw tightened. "It's safe. That's all you need to know."

Briana shifted uneasily. Elara caught the movement and leaned slightly towards her, her voice low. "Stay close to me, okay?"

Briana nodded, her eyes wide.

Niall pushed open the driver's door, stepping out into the cold night. Elara followed, her hand brushing against the wrench tucked into her belt. The bunker loomed before them, its steel doors slightly ajar, the faint hum of power emanating from within.

Niall moved faster than before, his steps urgent but unsteady. He glanced over his shoulder repeatedly, the tension in his posture visible.

Elara followed, her eyes narrowing at his erratic behavior. Something about his movements felt wrong.

As they approached the entrance, Elara noticed faint grooves in the dirt—a series of shallow, parallel lines leading toward the bunker. Tracks. Recent ones.

Her gaze snapped to Niall. His shoulders were hunched, his hand hovering over the door's control panel. Sweat glistened on his brow despite the cold.

"Renton..." she said slowly, her voice low, the air between them growing taut. He didn't respond.

Her blood ran cold. The realization hit her with such force that she staggered back a step. Niall must have felt her movement; he turned, his face a mask of fear and regret.

"Get inside," he said, his voice trembling as he gestured toward the door. "Now."

Elara didn't move. Her heart pounded as she stared at him, his every twitch and hesitation suddenly so transparent. The bunker wasn't a refuge—it was a trap. And she and Briana were the prey.

"How could you?" She then whispered, pushing Briana behind her.

"Listen, I had no choice." Niall started. "If I give you to them, they'd let my family live." Sweat dripped down his forehead. "You understand, don't you? My youngest is the same age as Lorelei was when she—"

"What the h*ll Niall!" Elara interrupted him, her voice was sharp, anger clearly audible. "You did it again, you sold us out!"

"No Elara, I sold you out." Niall corrected her. "You brought the kid."

"Niall you f*cking *ss-"

Elara didn't even finish her sentence or they were surrounded by a form of life she didn't recognize. Their tall, angular forms unnaturally still. Their skin shimmered faintly, a strange blend of metallic hues that shifted and rippled like liquid under their skin. Their weapons aimed at her and Briana.

"No!" Elara shouted, trying to throw herself between the child and the creatures.

Too late. A pulse of light erupted from the alien's weapon, striking Briana square in the chest. The air shimmered where the beam passed, leaving behind a smell like scorched metal. Briana staggered, her eyes wide with shock, before collapsing.

Elara dropped to her knees beside Briana's lifeless body. Her breath came in ragged sobs, the weight of her failure crashing down on her chest like a mountain. Her vision blurring as tears mixed with the dirt on her face.

Her scream ripped through the night, raw and broken, but the killers didn't flinch. The emptiness in her chest was suffocating, her body numb. For a moment, she stayed there, clutching Briana's body, unable to move.

But then something in her broke open, a surge of heat rising from the pit of her stomach, igniting her insides. It burned away the sorrow, the disbelief, and left a rage that made her blood feel like molten steel.

She slowly rose to her feet, her chest heaving as the fury eclipsed the grief. Her eyes locked on Niall, she now saw him for what he truly was: a coward, and traitor. You'd better pray they kill me," she hissed, her voice low and venomous. "Because if I live, I'll make you wish you were dead."