The tunnel changed.
It was subtle at first.
The metal walls grew uneven, patched with different eras of repair. Old transit markings were scratched over by hand-painted symbols. The hum of ancient machinery faded, replaced by something less mechanical.
Breathing.
Not literal.
But close.
Kai slowed, raising a fist.
"Stop," she whispered.
Qin Mian froze instantly. Yin Lie swayed beside her, but stayed upright.
"What is it?" Qin Mian asked quietly.
Kai didn't answer.
She crouched, fingers brushing the damp ground.
"…Footprints," she murmured.
"Fresh."
Yin Lie frowned.
"…They're not Hunters."
He felt it too.
No suppression pressure.
No grid resonance.
Just presence.
Human—but altered by long proximity to places the city had forgotten.
A sound echoed ahead.
Metal scraping against stone.
Then a voice—rough, wary.
"Don't move."
A light snapped on.
Not white.
Not clean.
A harsh yellow beam cut through the darkness, blinding Qin Mian for a second.
She raised her hands instinctively.
"We're not—"
"Quiet," the voice snapped.
Shapes emerged from the shadows.
Six of them.
Wrapped in layered coats, respirators hanging loose around their necks, faces marked by old scars and grime that never quite washed off. Their weapons were mismatched—old rifles, modified tools, one carrying something that looked like a cutting torch welded onto a grip.
Not military.
But not helpless.
Yin Lie felt his skin prickle.
"…They live down here," he whispered.
Kai straightened slowly, blade still lowered.
"We're passing through," she said evenly.
"We don't want trouble."
A man stepped forward.
Mid-forties.
Graying beard.
Eyes sharp in a tired way.
"Everyone wants something," he said.
"Even people 'passing through.'"
His gaze slid to Yin Lie—
then stopped.
He stiffened.
"…You," he said quietly.
Yin Lie tensed.
Qin Mian moved half a step in front of him without thinking.
"What about him?"
The man's expression shifted.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"You're loud," he said to Yin Lie.
"Not with sound.
With weight."
Yin Lie swallowed.
"I'm trying not to be."
That earned a dry laugh.
"Good luck with that."
The Underground Residents
Another figure spoke—
a woman with cropped hair and one mechanical eye that clicked softly as it adjusted focus.
"You two from the surface?" she asked Kai.
Kai nodded once.
"And the grid's chasing you."
It wasn't a question.
Kai's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
The group exchanged looks.
The man exhaled slowly.
"…Figures."
He waved a hand.
"Relax.
If we wanted you dead, you'd already be bleeding."
That didn't help Qin Mian relax at all.
"You're not with them?" she asked.
"With who?" the woman replied.
"The people who sealed the sun away and called it progress?"
She snorted.
"No.
We're the ones who stayed when the city decided it didn't need us anymore."
Yin Lie listened carefully.
"…You're not off-grid," he said.
"You're under it."
The man's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Smart boy."
Kai lowered her blade fully.
"What do you want?" she asked.
The man considered her.
"Depends," he said.
"On whether you're here to collapse more tunnels."
Qin Mian shook her head quickly.
"No—we just need to pass through.
We won't bring Hunters down here."
The woman with the mechanical eye laughed humorlessly.
"They always come anyway."
Her gaze lingered on Qin Mian.
"But you're different."
Qin Mian stiffened.
"How?"
"You're holding something together," the woman said.
"Poorly.
But deliberately."
Qin Mian didn't deny it.
The man scratched his beard.
"…Anchor-type," he muttered.
"Haven't seen one awake in decades."
Kai's breath caught.
"You know what she is?"
The man nodded slowly.
"We know a lot of things the surface forgot," he said.
"Because forgetting is a privilege."
The Choice
Silence stretched.
Water dripped somewhere far away.
Finally, the man stepped aside, gesturing down a side tunnel lit with dim orange lamps.
"You can rest there," he said.
"Briefly."
Kai looked at him sharply.
"And the price?"
He smiled, tired but not unkind.
"You answer questions," he said.
"And you don't lie."
Qin Mian hesitated.
Yin Lie leaned closer to her, whispering:
"…We don't have the strength to fight another group."
She nodded.
"We'll talk," she said.
The man studied them a moment longer—
then nodded once.
"Good."
As they moved into the side tunnel, the woman with the mechanical eye fell into step beside Kai.
"You should know," she said quietly.
"The Director doesn't come down here."
Kai glanced at her.
"Why?"
"Because the underground doesn't obey clean rules," the woman replied.
"And she hates places that can't be fully measured."
Yin Lie felt a strange, fragile relief.
Qin Mian squeezed his hand.
Maybe—
just maybe—
they had found a space where the hunt slowed.
But as they disappeared deeper into the dim-lit tunnels, none of them noticed the faint vibration traveling through the walls—
Not from above.
But from further below.
Something else had felt Yin Lie's presence.
And unlike the city—
It had been waiting a very long time.