The hospital had become a maze of endless white corridors, each one more suffocating than the last. Dim fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, occasionally flickering before plunging sections of the hallway into darkness. Streaks of dried blood dragged across the floor, disappearing beneath overturned gurneys and abandoned wheelchairs. Every door seemed to lead to another empty room, another reminder that the building had long since stopped being a place meant to save lives. The silence was never complete; somewhere in the distance came the groan of twisting metal, the muffled thud of footsteps that didn't belong to him, and the low hum of machinery that shouldn't have still been running. Simon had barely had time to process Sophie's death before forcing himself to keep moving. If he stopped, he'd think about it. If he thought about it, he'd freeze. So he wandered the halls with his pistol drawn, shoulders tense, every nerve expecting another creature to emerge from the shadows. His eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, his breathing shallow, and the weight of the hospital seemed to press down on him with every step. Then, at the end of the corridor, someone moved. Not one of the twisted creatures. A person. A woman. Standing perfectly still beneath the flickering lights. For a second Simon thought his mind was playing another trick on him. Then she looked back.