A new kind of "normal" began. Life in the Undercity was a lesson in cold, damp, and desperate survival. The Matron's hovel was a fortress of relative comfort, but the moment I stepped outside, the reality of this place was a physical weight. The air was a constant, chilled mist that tasted of rust and mildew. The only light came from the sickly yellow-green glow of the phosphorescent fungus farms and the sputtering, jury-rigged electric bulbs that crackled with stolen power.
Nara, with the incredible, terrifying resilience of a child, adapted. She was, for the first time in her life, not just safe, but revered. It was a heavy, suffocating kind of safety.
I saw it the next morning. I woke from a fitful, dreamless sleep on a pile of rough blankets, my hand still on the grip of my magun. The hovel was empty. Panic, sharp and electric, lanced through me. I scrambled out onto the rickety rope bridge, my heart hammering.
She was in the main cavern below. A small crowd of Undercity residents—at least twenty of them—were kneeling in a semi-circle around her. They weren't touching her. They were just… watching her. And they were offering her gifts. It was the most heartbreaking, pathetic thing I had ever seen. A man with a gaunt face and hollow eyes offered her a small, perfectly polished silver gear, probably the most valuable thing he owned. A young mother held out a small, dried piece of fungus, likely a part of her own meager ration.
Nara stood in the center of this circle of desperate worship, looking terrified. She was clutching a small, rusted bolt, a "gift" from another resident, as if it were a shield, her eyes wide and darting, looking for me. Looking for an escape.
I was down the ladder in seconds. "Back off," I growled, my voice a low, hard command. I pushed my way through the circle, my "Faction-man" authority, the very thing they hated, now a useful tool. The crowd flinched, their years of ingrained fear of the world above stronger, for a moment, than their new-found faith.
I scooped Nara up, and she buried her face in my neck, her small body trembling. "It's okay," I whispered. I turned on the crowd, my gaze a mix of pity and fury. "She's not a relic. She's a child. Leave her alone."
"She is our hope." It was the Matron. She was standing at the edge of the crowd, her face a mask of iron.
I carried Nara over to her, pushing past the kneeling residents. "You're suffocating her," I hissed, my voice low and angry. "This isn't protection. This is a cage. Just like Krauss's, only damper."
The Matron's ancient eyes flashed. "Hope is a powerful, dangerous thing, Faction-man," she rasped. "These people have had nothing but darkness for ten years. Her presence… it is the first light they have seen. It is a weapon against the despair that kills us more surely than any Sentinel. You would take that from them? From me?"
I looked at the faces in the crowd. She was right. This wasn't just about Nara; it was about the survival of an entire people. I couldn't fight this. I couldn't just take Nara and hide in the shadows. I had no leverage. They were protecting us, feeding us. But that didn't mean I had to be their pawn. I had to use them, just as they were using her.
I shifted my tactics. "You're right," I said, my voice changing, becoming the cold, pragmatic scout that Krauss had wanted me to be. "She is hope. She's a symbol. And right now, the entire Faction-city above us is hunting for that symbol. They're not just sending patrols, Matron. They're sending Sentinels into the Neutral Sector. How long until they find your secret doors? How long until they find this place?"
The Matron's expression tightened. I had hit a nerve. "They have never found us before."
"They've never had a reason to look this hard before," I countered. "They're not just hunting a fugitive anymore. They're hunting their 'plague.' Krauss will tear this city apart, stone by stone, to get to her. You're blind down here. You're waiting in the dark for the hammer to fall."
"What do you propose, Faction-man?" she spat, her pride stung. "You, who ran from them?"
"I didn't just run," I said, my voice a low, confident lie. "I retreated. I was Krauss's scout. I wore his cloak. I know how they think. I know how they move. I can be your eyes. You say these tunnels go everywhere? Good. I'm going back up."
This got Garr's attention. The rebar-wielding giant stepped forward, his face a mask of suspicion. "Go back? He'll betray us! He'll run right back to his master!"
"My master ordered me to delete her," I snarled, my gaze locking with Garr's. I let the full, cold rage I felt seep into my voice. "He ordered my own faction-mates to subdue me. My old life is gone. I'm a glitch, just like every single one of you. My only loyalty is to her." I jutted my chin toward Nara, who was now peeking out from my shoulder, watching.
"I am going back up," I continued, my gaze shifting back to the Matron. "I'm going to find out what they're planning. I'm going to watch their patrols. I'm going to see where their weak points are. I will be the ghost they're all afraid of. I will keep us one step ahead, so I can keep her safe. But to do that, you have to trust me. You have to show me the way."
The Matron studied me, her ancient eyes seeming to pierce my very soul, searching for the truth. She saw the desperation. She saw the fanatical, protective sincerity in my eyes. And she saw an opportunity.
"You are cunning, Faction-man," she finally rasped, a grim smile touching her lips. "Or you are a suicidal fool. Perhaps both. Very well. You will be our eyes. You will see what your old masters are planning. But not in the Admin-spire. Not where the patrols are."
Her smile widened, becoming a skeletal grin. "You want to know what Krauss is planning? You want to find the cracks in his perfect prison? Then you must go to the heart of the beast. You must go to the Core."
"Garr," she commanded. "Take him. Show him the old way. The path to the Foundation."
Garr looked like he wanted to argue, but one look from the Matron silenced him. He grunted, a sound of pure, bitter reluctance. "Aye. This way, ghost. Let's see if you survive the journey."
I set Nara down, handing her to the Matron, who took her with a surprising gentleness. "Be safe," I whispered to Nara.
I turned and followed Garr into a narrow, dark, and ancient tunnel, my hand on my magun, the blueprint fragment in my pocket feeling like a hot, burning coal.
The tunnel was different from the others. It was older, the stonework more precise. The air grew warmer, the smell of damp earth replaced by a faint, dry heat. And there was a new sound. Not the drip of water. Not the scuffle of rats.
It was a low, rhythmic, deep-bass thrum. A vibration I could feel in the soles of my boots.
Garr stopped, holding up a hand. We listened.
THUD... THUD... THUD...
It was a heartbeat. A massive, mechanical heartbeat.
"What is that?" I whispered, the sound already unsettling me.
Garr looked at me, his eyes wide with a fear that did nothing to comfort me. "It started two days ago," he growled. "Right after they sealed the surface. It hasn't stopped."
I put my hand on the stone wall. The vibration was powerful, steady. It was the sound of heavy, industrial machinery.
Krauss wasn't just searching for the Undercity. He wasn't just waiting.
He was drilling.