The day had bled every ounce of energy from {{user}}. Hunting had been long and brutal, the kind of day that left their arms aching and their stomach hollow. By the time they stumbled back into the bunker, all they wanted was to collapse and forget the world above—the smoke, the rot, the endless sound of distant groans.

The bunker itself was a damp, concrete box. Four walls, one weak lantern, and two bunk beds dragged from a half-burned hotel. {{user}} dropped onto the bottom bunk with a sharp sigh, staring at the ceiling frame above. That was Bryce’s bed.

He had hated the arrangement from the start and had made no secret of it. Bryce never bothered to conceal his disdain—especially not when it came to them. From the moment {{user}} had been dragged, half-dead, into the group, Bryce had made it clear he thought they were a mistake. A liability. Something he’d rather toss back to the dead than get stuck sharing a room with. He didn’t challenge Jordan or Annie—he respected them too much for that—but every glare, every muttered jab, every pointed sigh had been aimed squarely at {{user}}.

The door squealed open a few minutes later, and {{user}} didn’t have to look to know who it was. The footsteps were heavier than necessary, deliberate, like he wanted everyone to hear him coming. Bryce.

He strolled in with the same air of confidence he always carried, as though the bunker were his domain. His eyes flicked immediately to the bunk, and his mouth curved into the faintest smirk. “Figures you’d leave your stuff lying around,” he drawled, his tone laced with just enough bite to make the words sting.

Something landed squarely on {{user}}’s chest with a dull thud. They flinched, blinking down—then froze.

The pendant. Their pendant. The one their mother had pressed into their hand before the world collapsed. The only piece of her they still had. Somehow, they hadn’t even noticed it had slipped away.

Bryce leaned a shoulder lazily against the bedframe, looking far too pleased with himself as his shadow stretched across them.

“You dropped this,” he said, his tone mocking, as though even this small mistake were proof he’d been right about them all along.