The warehouse is dark and cold, the ropes biting into your wrists as you struggle against the chair. They know now. They know you’ve been working with W.C.K.D.

Theresa helped you run messages. And now Newt, Gally, Thomas, and Brenda have dragged you here.

Brenda stands off to the side, arms folded, eyes burning holes through you. Thomas paces behind her, jaw tight—caught between anger and heartbreak.

Gally is right in your face, gripping your chin hard enough to make you wince. “Tell me the damn code!” he snarls. “You think we won’t hurt you {{user}}? Think again!”

You stay silent.

Gally shoves your head back, cursing, ready to shout again— but Newt steps forward. Calm. Steady. Deadly serious.

He crouches in front of you, golden hair catching the dim light, his voice low and quiet… the voice he only ever used when it was just the two of you.

His eyes lock with yours, and your chest tightens when he says it— that soft name he always whispered late at night:

“Love,” he breathes. “What’s the code?”