The Titan Born's head exploded with a deafening CRACK, fragments of rock and bone spraying the bloodied walls like shrapnel. Blood sprayed from the ragged stump of its neck, splattering across the barely-alive man lying below.
The massive body crumpled backwards and landed with a heavy thud, sending a tremor through the floor.
Hawk lowered The Iron Lung, its barrel still steaming. He approached cautiously, the stink of blood and death thick in the air.
He crouched beside the man, placing two fingers at his neck. Faint pulse. Barely there.
"Yo… hey, yo—come on," Hawk said, tapping his cheek gently.
The man stirred, one eye swollen shut, the other barely opening. His lips trembled. "K-Kill me…"
Hawk blinked. "Huh?"
"Please…" the man croaked. "It hurts… hurts so much… please…"
Hawk looked away for a second, unsure. "I—I haven't killed a human before. And I don't exactly… want to."
The man gave a weak smile through the blood crusted on his face. "You'd be giving me peace…"
Hawk stayed silent for a beat, then nodded solemnly. "Alright. But first… I need to know something."
He leaned in. "Why are the Titan Born here? What do they want?"
The man shivered. His voice rasped like wind dragging over gravel. "They're… they're looking for nuke codes…"
Hawk's eyes widened. "Nuke codes? What the hell would they do with those? If they nuke New York, they're nuking themselves too."
"Yes…" the man whispered. "And… I have it…"
He reached with trembling fingers to his back pocket and pulled out a blood-stained paper, folded tightly. Hawk took it gently.
"You've gotta destroy it," the man gasped. "Before they find the warhead…"
"Do you know where the nuke is?" Hawk asked urgently.
The man shook his head. "No. I found the code… on a scientist. He was already dead. Searched him… nothing else on him."
"Damn," Hawk muttered. "Alright, one more thing. How are these things even smart? I heard they were brain-dead brutes."
"No idea… but… there's a leader. Has to be," the man murmured. "Big… worse than the others…"
Hawk nodded grimly. "Yeah. I saw him. In the control room. It's locked—I need a key."
The man's hand twitched toward Hawk's chest, weakly tapping his vest. "One of us… found the key. When we came in… museum doors, take a left… head toward the basement. That's where they ambushed us…"
"Got it," Hawk said. He slung the rifle off his back and held it up. "By the way… this rifle, what's this weird circular dial on the side?"
The man gave a slow nod. "You… load rifle ammo… twist the dial… it pressurizes. Steam vents. Hits like a truck…"
"Ohhh, alright," Hawk said, nodding appreciatively. "That explains a lot."
He pulled out The Iron Lung and stared down at the man with heavy eyes. His fingers hovered over the trigger.
"I'm sorry."
The man smiled weakly. "Don't be… I'll… finally see my daughter again…"
Hawk clenched his jaw. Closed his eyes.
BAM.
The man's body went still. A small trickle of blood ran from the wound. A faint smile still lingered on his broken face.
Hawk sat there in silence for a long moment, breathing slowly.
"…Rest easy, man."
After some time retracing his steps, Hawk finally reached the left corridor the dying man had mentioned. He turned down the shadowed hallway, the air becoming colder, mustier. The tile under his boots gave way to concrete steps, cracked and moldy. He descended slowly.
"Alright," he muttered. "Basement it is…"
The basement opened into a dim, wide chamber with low ceilings and exposed pipes dripping rusty water. The stench of rot hit him like a fist.
"Ugh… smells like a corpse's armpit down here…"
And rightfully so. Hawk paused, eyes narrowing as he spotted a cluster of bodies—humans and Titan Born alike, scattered in bloody heaps like discarded meat.
"Damn…" he whispered. "Did the people actually fight back? Or…"
He crouched beside a dead Titan Born, its skull caved in like someone used a sledgehammer with fury. "Or maybe something else killed 'em…"
Suddenly he stiffened. His eyes widened.
"AH, FUCK—!" he shouted, smacking his forehead. "I forgot to ask that guy if I'm gonna TURN!"
His voice echoed through the basement, bouncing off the walls like a warning. He rubbed at his still-sore leg and sighed deeply.
"Shit… I need to find something—anything—that can tell me I'm not screwed…"
His eyes caught a metal shelf in the corner, tilted and rusted. On it sat a dusty, unopened can.
"Beans?" He picked it up and read the faded label: Bongo Beans—Spicy, Bold, 99% Meat-Free.
He squinted. "Meat-free? But it's beans…"
He tried to pop it open with his fingers. Failed.
"Great. Sealed tighter than a vault." He muttered, looking around. "Guess I need something sharp…"
He scanned the room again. "It's dark, but not as bad as the sewer… Still, what kinda museum has this much underground space? Like—did the survivors build all this? Why? For defense? Storage? Hideouts?"
He trailed off, eyes narrowing in thought.
"I guess I'll never know."
As he wandered further into the gloom, he spotted another corpse slumped against a support beam, dried blood crusted across its chest and face. Hawk knelt and began patting the man down.
"Sorry, pal… nothing personal."
He rifled through pockets, finding a syringe labeled X-RAD. The label was scratched but readable.
He tilted his head. "X-RAD… sounds like something to fix radiation. Or turn me into a mutant. Here's hopin'…"
He dropped the beans, uncapped the needle, and jammed it into his thigh. "AAAAAAUGH—goddamn that burns!"
After a few seconds, the pain dulled, replaced by a cold numbness spreading through his veins. "Alright… either I'm cured or I just took a slow poison."
He glanced down and spotted a jagged shard of glass sticking out of a wooden crate nearby. "Hello, beautiful."
He broke it free and returned to the beans, stabbing at the can until the metal peeled open.
"C'mon, you bastard… there!"
He scooped out a handful with his fingers and scarfed it down. "Mmm… man, that actually hit the spot."
Licking his fingers, he tossed the can behind him with a clank, wiping his hands on his pants.
Then—
CLANG.
A loud metallic crash echoed through the basement.
Hawk froze.
"What the hell was that…?"
He raised his rifle slowly, breath shallow, pulse rising.
In the silence, a low groan vibrated through the air—inhuman. Wet. Like something breathing from the back of its throat.
Hawk swallowed hard, eyes narrowing toward the far darkness.
"…Guess I ain't alone down here."