A few hours later...
The air is thick and damp, laced with the scent of old stone and mold. Every step Dave and Heinz take echoes down the tunnel, bouncing off the uneven walls as if the place is breathing with them. The torch Heinz carries flickers, casting shadows that stretch like spectral fingers across the cracked ground.
Underground, the world feels even more dead than it does above. There are no traces of life here, only the heavy sense of being trapped in a place forgotten even by time itself.
Dave walks ahead, jaw clenched, body tense. His instincts scream that this tunnel is a trap, that there's nothing here but the echo of empty promises.
"Tell me we're close," he growls, not bothering to look back at Heinz.
Heinz, trailing a few paces behind, takes his time to respond.
"We should be."
Dave stops cold, spinning on his heels.
"Should'? You didn't drag me all the way down here just to tell me you've got no fucking clue what you're doing, did you?"
Heinz watches him calmly, his face half-hidden in shadow.
"Some portals aren't static. They tend to shift with changes in the world's energy."
"Oh, how fucking convenient."
Dave runs a hand over his face and exhales sharply. He should've known it wouldn't be easy—but what pisses him off the most isn't the situation. It's the man guiding him through it.
Heinz.
He doesn't trust him. Not for a goddamn second. Every word out of his mouth sounds rehearsed, dipped in that soft-spoken tone that just doesn't fit someone you can rely on. And yet, here he is, following him like an idiot, because the alternative is wandering alone in a world that wants him dead.
Heinz knows. Of course he knows. And still, he walks on, unbothered, not even pretending to win him over.
Dave turns and keeps walking, kicking loose stones out of his path. The tunnel stretches on, seemingly endless, like the world itself is toying with them.
"This is bullshit," he mutters.
Heinz is beside him now, his voice lower, quieter.
"If it were, it'd have a better punchline."
Dave glances at him for a second but says nothing. There's something about the way Heinz speaks that throws him off. There's no real sarcasm, only a kind of resignation, like he's used to things falling apart. And somehow, that irritates Dave even more.
"Tell me the truth, Heinz," he mutters. "Do you *really* believe this portal exists?"
Heinz stops.
For the first time all damn night, there's doubt on his face. Barely there—but Dave sees it.
And that tells him more than words ever could.
"Fucking hell…"
Dave takes a few steps away and leans against a wall of cold stone. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling in frustration.
Heinz doesn't speak right away. He just watches him, his shadow stretched along the wall like a piece of himself pulled thin.
"I did believe," Heinz admits finally. "But it seems to have changed, Dave. It's not how I remembered."
Dave laughs bitterly.
"Oh, great. Anything else you haven't told me?"
"Yes." Heinz meets his gaze, deadly serious. "That I'm not against you."
Dave's stare hardens.
"Still not convinced of that."
They hold each other's gaze in the quiet of the tunnel, the darkness curling around them like a sleeping beast.
And Dave wonders if the real problem isn't being trapped in this world—
—but being trapped in it with Heinz.
The silence between them isn't awkward. It's heavy, dense, like the fog that coats a city in its coldest dawns. They walk down an empty street now, Dave's footsteps sounding on the wet asphalt while Heinz's are lighter, nearly soundless.
The pale moon barely lights the decaying buildings around them, and shadows twist in strange shapes as if trying to reach them. Heinz walks a few steps ahead, his pace calm but assured. His long coat moves with the breeze, and for a moment, Dave finds himself staring at the contrast between the pale skin of Heinz's neck and the darkness of his clothes.
It's strange.
Not because he's staring. But because he *notices* that he's staring. He clicks his tongue and looks away, jamming his hands into his pockets. His reflection scowls back at him from a dusty shop window.
He tells himself it's just curiosity. That there's something about the way Heinz moves, the deliberate way he speaks, that just... intrigues him. That annoys him. That keeps him on edge.
But then Heinz tilts his head just slightly, and his profile catches the glow of a streetlamp. And Dave feels a strange pull in his chest.
It's fleeting—just a flicker of clarity.
Treacherous as hell.
"Something bothering you?" Heinz asks, not turning around, his voice casual—almost like he knows Dave's been watching him.
"Yeah, I'm worried that if we keep walking aimlessly, we'll end up in a dead-end alley."
"I doubt something that trivial would stop us."
Dave smirks sideways.
"Always so damn confident, huh?"
Heinz doesn't answer. He just keeps walking, and Dave finds himself noticing again the smoothness of his movements, the way his silhouette fits this decaying city like it *belongs*—like *he* belongs to it.
He shouldn't be thinking about these things.
He shouldn't be noticing the way Heinz's eyes glint every time he stops beneath a light.
He shouldn't be wondering what it would be like to have him close—close enough to see if his skin is really as cold as it looks.
He clenches his jaw and exhales sharply, forcing his gaze away.
It's just exhaustion.
It's just the goddamn stress of being trapped here.
Yeah. That has to be it.