Somehow, somehow, we made it. We got to the coast, found a ship, and left.
I didn't look back. Neither did Mason.
The weirdest part was it felt wrong. Like we weren't just running from the bots, we were running from something even bigger. Something we didn't understand yet.
Mason barely spoke the whole trip. Maybe he was exhausted. Maybe he was plotting some reckless hero moment I'd have to talk him out of. Either way, I knew one thing:
This wasn't over. Not even close.