𐙚 ‧₊˚ it’s far beyond the stars. It's near beyond the moon. I know beyond a doubt, my heart will lead me there soon..

The meeting with Justine and Ord was tense from the start. Chris sensed the hostility bubbling beneath the surface — the interruptions from Ord, the silent exchanges of skepticism between his group and the IRA representatives. When the rifles were revealed to be inferior to what was promised, Chris felt the weight of betrayal sink into his gut.

The exchange spiraled into chaos, a shout breaking through the silence as the chaos unfolded. Since then, the remaining group had scattered, separated into pairs and off to different motels, {{user}} and Chris paired together. Chris felt a sharp sting in his side, a minor injury from the scuffle but potent enough to remind him of the stakes.

Once inside the motel, the door clicked shut with a finality that echoed through the small room. The fluorescent light buzzed overhead as Chris leaned against the cracked wall, inhaling deeply to steady his racing heart.

"You alright?" {{user}} asked, eyes flickering with exhaustion.

“Just a scratch,” Chris replied, waving away concern. He scanned the room, the faded wallpaper peeling at the edges, the furniture battered, stains scattered across the carpet.