The tunnels smelled of rust, oil, and blood.
Netoshka pressed her back against the wall, the beam of her headlamp sweeping over wet concrete and corroded pipes. The air was thick with steam from burst conduits, and every few seconds, the ground trembled — the sound of heavy metal feet clanging in the distance.
"Motion sensors are picking up movement—two hundred meters and closing," Surgien whispered, checking his wrist console. The green lines flickered, unstable. "Decapitators. Multiple signatures."
Netoshka's breathing steadied.
"Then we'll hold this section and collapse the rest. Alev, set the charges."
Alev nodded, sliding down to his knees and unpacking his satchel. He began wiring plastic explosives along the tunnel joints — one every five meters — his hands shaking from exhaustion. The team had been running nonstop since Grimshire's collapse, and the sound of steel shifting above them didn't help their nerves.
Taran stood guard at the rear with his Assualt Rifle, barrel glinting in the flickering light.
"I hear them. They're dragging bodies again…" he muttered, voice heavy. "Must've picked up the ones from earlier. Reanimating 'em."
Surgien swore under his breath. "That's not possible, they were shredded—"
"They're reusing the parts," Ron interrupted grimly. "Those things rebuild. That's what the Director said — self-reconstructive tech, fused with Wire tendrils. Kill one, two more wake up."
Netoshka raised her rifle, focusing on the tunnel ahead. She could already see faint silhouettes — twisted humanoid shapes crawling along the ceiling, their eyes glowing like dying embers.
"Positions," she ordered calmly.
"We trigger the first charge on my mark."
The squad fanned out, taking cover behind rusted support beams and shattered crates. Alev armed the detonator, sliding it into Netoshka's hand.
Then, silence.
Only the sound of dripping water and the distant hum of turbines deeper below.
The first Decapitator appeared, it's eyes scanning the area in a violet glare, dragging a serrated blade arm across the floor, its head half-torn but still twitching. Behind it, a dozen more crawled through the shadows — metal skeletons with flayed skin stretched across their frames.
"Contact," Ron whispered.
Netoshka waited until the horde was fully in view. Her finger tightened around the trigger. "Fire."
The tunnel erupted into chaos.
Gunfire tore through the dark — tracer rounds flashing in rapid bursts, grenades thundering in confined space. Decapitators dropped, sparks bursting from their skulls, limbs shattering against the walls. Yet more poured in, climbing over the dead, screeching in mechanical rage.
Taran's Assault Rifle overheated. He ripped the barrel back, slamming in a new one while Surgien dragged him behind cover.
"They're pushing hard—!"
"I see it!" Netoshka yelled, ducking as a blade whirled past her face, slicing the strap off her shoulder pad. She spun, emptying a full clip into the Decapitator's chest, metal exploding into shards.
Then — a high-pitched whine.
The tunnel lights flickered. The air grew hot.
"Alev, now!" she shouted.
Alev slammed the detonator.
The explosion tore the tunnel apart — a shockwave of dust, flame, and shrapnel blasting down the corridor. The roof caved in, collapsing steel beams and concrete onto the advancing swarm. Fire roared through the shaft, engulfing everything.
The team stumbled backward, shielding themselves as the shockwave passed.
When the dust settled, all that remained of the Decapitators was smoldering wreckage and the echo of twisting metal.
Ron coughed, wiping soot from his visor. "You think that did it?"
"For now," Netoshka said, checking her ammo. "But this section's unstable. We move deeper. We'll find another exit."
Surgien pulled up his map.
"There's an access route down this way — connects to the main maintenance tunnels under Sector 9. If we cut through there, we can reach the eastern surface."
"Then that's our route." Netoshka looked back at the collapse — molten rebar, scattered limbs, the red haze of burning circuits. "No turning back now."
They pressed on, stepping over charred debris, the tunnel ceiling creaking ominously above them. Somewhere behind the wall of rubble, faint mechanical groans echoed — not all of them destroyed.
Taran muttered,
"They'll dig through that eventually."
"I know," Netoshka said quietly. "That's why we'll be gone before they do."
The squad disappeared into the dark, guided only by their flickering lamps — the faint glow trailing off into the endless subterranean maze. The explosions had bought them time, but every step deeper into the tunnels felt like a descent into something older and hungrier than machines.
And far above, unseen through the cracked ceiling, Grimshire had burned like a battlefield.