I don't know how long it was before I noticed Lissa had closed her eyes, but I immediately panicked. I called her name over and over, and checked her pulse; it was still faintly there. Eventually her eyes flickered open but immediately shut again. Though I still worried, I was calmed a bit.‎

Min was up ahead. My Min. I was torn. I was needed here with Liss but I ached to go and comfort Min. I was frustrated at how little we could do, but Min more so. She had seen the blade heading for our best friend but had not been able to stop it. She saw all our work, which had taken months and years to compose, finally completed and then destroyed in one small, swift blow. And then she was cast adrift with no real plan or aim.‎

One of Min's quirks was that she always had a plan. In the first months of knowing her, all those years ago, no one really knew how much she depended on having a plan, but now considering all she had been though it was understandable. To not have an aim at this moment must have been eating away at her, however she could not stop to sort out her immediate future now that time was of the essence.‎ We had to get help for Lissa, or it would be too late. It might already be too late.

Her previously pale skin was ashen and her breaths were irregular and weak. Despite this, the blood continued to flow steadily. There was no stopping it. I shifted her position and placed one of my hands over the wound. Accidentally, I jogged her arm and it hung limp by her side.‎ I picked up my pace.

In the distance Min had stopped and was running her hand over the tunnel walls. As I approached, through the grime I could see an ancient, unused, rusting door, of which Min was searching for the handle. She ran her hands along the wall, her fingers catching on crumbling plaster. Finally they caught in a crevice. She frantically brushed the dust away and revealed the outline of a number pad surrounded by an indent in the wall. I staggered over as she punched the numbers in. Carefully, I put Lissa down and pushed Min to the side as she fired the wrong pin in over and over again.

The electric beeps from the pad echoed through the tunnel, ending with a conclusive click. The door slid back and to the side as it unlocked, and before I picked Lissa up again, I gave Min a one-armed hug. She avoided eye contact and jogged into the new void, rearranging the gun strap on her shoulder. I sighed and followed her, Lissa still unconscious.

We had entered a narrow corridor, completely unlit and not exactly pleasant. The ceiling was slightly arched and when Min turned her torch on, we could see the bricks were stained green and slimy moss clung to them in some places. The slow drip of water could be heard further in the distance. We walked in silence. The corridor seemed endless. Every so often, I checked Lissa's pulse and, thankfully, it was still there but still faint. We kept a steady pace and Min's torch was shining strong. In the silence it was easy to imagine that the chaos we had left behind never existed, but after a while I realised we did not know if the rest of out team had left the train at the same platform as us. As if I had voiced my thoughts, footsteps resonated off the cold walls. The march of soldiers came towards us and as I briefly turned around, I saw the flicker of torchlight at the entrance of the passage. Min glanced over her shoulder and set off into another jog. I picked up my step. Lissa drifted into consciousness for a second but didn't wake fully.

After another ten minutes of travelling through twisting tunnels, we came to a steel barrier. The way was completely sealed off and the door looked solid and new. Etched into the metal, about two feet off the ground, was the title "The Haven". In the wall next to the door was an area of missing bricks, with a descreet sensor screen inserted into the top of the space. Min held her left wrist under the pad and it lit up blue for a second as the tumblers in the door rotated. She pushed it open. A bright light flooded the tunnel.