“You better recalculatefaster,” I growl, ducking under a sparking pipe that nearly takes my horns off.
The Hulk’s spine is cracking.
We turn down a maintenance shaft, half-collapsed with debris. I glance up—and freeze. The girder above is shifting, creaking, threatening to fall. Too slow and we die under it. Too fast and we run right into a plasma leak that’s warping the air like a mirage.
“We can’t go around,” Isolde says, breathless.
“No,” I snarl. “We gothrough.”
I scoop her up—one arm under her knees, the other at her back. She yelps but doesn’t protest. Her arms lock around my neck, face pressed into my collarbone.
“I swear if you drop me?—”
“Never,” I hiss, and lunge forward.
The heat is suffocating. I leap the broken girder just as it tears loose and crashes behind us in a storm of sparks. The blast scorches my back. She screams into my neck, but I don't stop. Can't.
Every muscle screams. Every scar on my body feels like it's being re-opened. But I don't let go.
Idon’tlet her go.
We slam into a wall and slide. I release her gently—too gently for what we’re running from, but I can’t help it. She scrambles to her feet, panting, hair wild and eyes huge.
“Next time,” she wheezes, “we take the elevator.”
“Next time,” I grunt, “we don’t fuck on a sinking warship.”
She snorts. It’s a breathless, terrified laugh, but it’s still a laugh. She wipes a smear of blood from her lip and keeps pace.
Another corridor buckles. Reflector zips past, belching sparks. “Three decks remain between current location and escape bay. Caution: stairwell 4-C is compromised. Explosive decompression event detected.”
“I know a bypass,” I grunt.
“You know a—wait,youknow a shortcut?” she huffs.
“I’ve lived here longer than your planet’s been in fashion season.”
“That’s not—actually, you know what, fine. Lead the way, Mister Hulk Homeowner.”
We tear through a maintenance hatch. I punch the override. The door stutters, half-opens. I wedge my claws in and rip it the rest of the way. She slides under before it crashes shut behind us with a shriek.
More smoke. More fire. The next corridor is flooded with red emergency light. I can feel the Hulk’s heartbeat fading—every flicker of light like a dying pulse.
We’re not gonna make it.
No.
We will.
I won’t let her die here.
The next section drops into chaos—a whole wall has caved, exposing a river of blue-white plasma snarling like a live wire. Sparks leap off it, searing the floor. One wrong step and we’re atoms.
She hesitates. “Garokk?—”
“Don’t think,” I bark. “Just follow my path.”
I leap.
