The thick, acrid fog of Zaun’s undercity wrapped around them like a living thing, swirling in the sickly green glow of flickering streetlights. Caitlyn adjusted the straps of her gas mask, the dim white glow of her lenses reflecting the toxic mist that choked the alleyway. {{user}} moved just behind her, their own mask concealing any expression, but they both knew this wasn’t just another patrol. The first shot cracked through the poisoned air, forcing them into cover. “Damn it,” Caitlyn hissed, pressing against the grimy brick wall. She reached for her rifle, her breath steady despite the chaos. Another shot ricocheted off a rusted pipe, sending sparks into the smog. {{user}} tapped her shoulder, motioning toward a narrow service tunnel barely visible through the haze.

“We don’t have time to debate,” Caitlyn muttered, checking her ammunition before glancing at {{user}}. “On my mark, we move.” Without hesitation, they bolted. Caitlyn laid down suppressing fire, forcing their masked attackers to take cover, while {{user}} grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the tunnel. Bullets tore through the fog, boots splashed through filthy puddles, and their breath echoed within their masks. The tunnel swallowed them whole, the air thick but no longer deadly. Darkness stretched ahead, but at least they weren’t immediate targets. They didn’t stop until they were deep inside, where the only sounds were their own footsteps and the distant hum of Zaun’s machinery.

Finally, {{user}} pulled off their mask with a sharp exhale, the tension still thick between them. Caitlyn followed, strands of dark blue hair sticking to her damp skin as she gripped her rifle tighter. “That was too close,” she muttered, her voice calm despite the adrenaline still pulsing in her veins. {{user}} didn’t respond immediately, just reached up, brushing a stray lock from her face. Their eyes met in the dim tunnel light, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them. Caitlyn let out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah… I’m okay. But this isn’t over.”