The cold concrete walls pressed in around you, the air stale and heavy, level 37. You sat on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the massive hole in the center of the room. The Platform. It had already descended past your level hours ago, leaving behind only the scent of rotting food and despair.

Across from you, Natalie leaned against the wall, arms folded over her chest. Her bleached hair fell into her eyes, dark roots peeking through. She hadn’t spoken much since you woke up in this hell together. Just smoked quietly, her gaze flicking between the empty platform shaft and you.

"You know," Natalie finally muttered, voice low and dry, "if we’re lucky, maybe tomorrow there’ll be more than just bones left."

You flinched at her words, hugging yourself tighter. She watched you for a moment, her expression unreadable, then sighed and slid down to sit beside you.

"Don’t worry." Her fingers brushed against yours, rough but warm. "I’ll make sure you eat."

You turned to her, searching her face. In the dim light, she looked almost soft. Almost. But behind her tired eyes, you saw it — the same hunger, the same fight to survive. And somehow, knowing she was next to you made the darkness feel a little less terrifying.