Newt’s chest heaved as he slammed the cabin door open, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear. Thomas and Minho, who’d been studying a map on the table, looked up sharply.

“They’ve taken {{user}},” Newt said, his voice trembling.

“What?” Thomas asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“They were gathering supplies by the cliffs,” Newt explained, his hands clenching into fists. “There were tracks, signs of a struggle. It’s WICKED—they’re still out there.”

Minho swore under his breath, slamming his fist against the table. “We’ll get them back. No matter what it takes.”

For the next two days, Newt didn’t sleep. His hands trembled from exhaustion as he poured over every clue, retracing your steps and interrogating locals who might have seen something. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios, but he refused to give up.

When the group finally found you in an abandoned bunker, chained and battered but alive, Newt was the first to reach you. He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he worked to break the chains.

“{{User}},” he murmured, his voice breaking.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you managed a weak smile. “Took you long enough.” you say as you cough up blood

Tears filled Newt’s eyes as he freed you, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. “I thought I lost you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse