The darkness rushed past them like a physical weight, tearing at their clothes.
"Brakes!" Rook screamed, his voice whipped away by the wind. He was flattened against the top of the black coffin-pod, gripping the edges so hard his knuckles were white. "When does this thing hit the brakes?!"
"Soon!" Lyric shouted back, eyes squinting against the stinging cold air. "Hold on!"
Below them, a ring of red laser light appeared in the abyss. It expanded rapidly.
Warning. Deceleration Zone. The mechanical voice echoed from the drone's chassis.
WHOOSH.
Gravity slammed back into them. The drone fired its reverse thrusters, and the sudden deceleration felt like hitting a brick wall. Lyric's stomach lurched into their throat. The G-force pressed them down against the cold metal of the pod, crushing the air out of their lungs.
Sparks flew as the drone locked onto a magnetic guide rail. Metal screeched against metal, a sound that drilled into Lyric's teeth.
They slowed from terminal velocity to a crawl in five seconds.
Thump.
The drone hovered, then settled onto a landing pad with a heavy mechanical hiss.
Silence returned. Absolute, freezing silence.
Rook rolled off the pod and hit the floor on his hands and knees. He dry-heaved, gasping for air.
"I hate..." Rook wheezed, coughing. "I hate the future. I hate drones. I hate gravity."
Lyric slid off the pod, legs shaking. The landing had jarred their ribs, waking up the bruise from the Architect's kick.
"Swallow it," Lyric rasped, forcing themselves to stand upright. "We're alive."
They were in a massive hangar bay. It wasn't like the industrial grime of the Underground or the chaotic neon of the City. This place was sterile. The walls were smooth, polished white composite. The floor was a dark, reflective glass. The air was frigid and smelled of recycled oxygen and antiseptic.
"Sector Zero," Lyric said, voice echoing slightly. "The Vault."
"It's freezing," Rook said, zipping his jacket up to his chin. He stood up, wiping his mouth. "And it's quiet. Too quiet. Shouldn't there be guards?"
"Automated," Lyric reminded him. "Finch said supplies go down, nothing comes up. The processing is probably robotic."
As if on cue, a section of the floor opened up. A yellow line painted on the ground lit up, leading from the drone to a massive blast door on the far wall.
Cargo processing initiated, a pleasant, synthetic voice announced from the ceiling. Stand clear of the transport lane.
A mechanical arm unfolded from the wall. It reached for the coffin-pod they had just ridden.
"Hide," Lyric hissed.
They sprinted behind a stack of silver crates near the wall.
Peeking around the edge, Lyric watched as the arm lifted the black pod. It didn't treat it gently. It scanned the barcode, then placed it onto a conveyor belt that moved toward the blast door.
"That pod," Rook whispered, crouching next to Lyric. "If this is a prison, who's inside?"
"Does it matter?" Lyric asked, checking the ceramic sword on their belt.
"It matters if we just hitchhiked on a VIP," Rook said. "Look at the markings."
Lyric squinted. On the side of the black pod, in faint red letters, was a designation:
CLASS: KETER
CONTAINMENT: MEMORY HAZARD
DO NOT OPEN
"Memory Hazard," Lyric muttered. "That's not a person. That's a bomb. Or a memory so bad it kills people."
"And we rode it like a surfboard," Rook shook his head. "We're idiots."
The blast door hissed open. The conveyor belt carried the pod through. Beyond the door, Lyric caught a glimpse of a long, white hallway lined with thousands of glowing blue drawers.
"That's the Archive," Lyric said. "That's where they keep them."
"Valerius is in there?"
"The map says yes."
The blast door began to close.
"We need to get through before it seals!" Lyric said.
They broke cover.
They sprinted across the polished floor, boots squeaking loudly in the silence. The door was heavy, sliding shut with a sense of finality.
"Slide!" Lyric yelled.
Lyric dropped to the floor, sliding on the slick glass surface. They cleared the gap with inches to spare. Rook dove after, scrambling through just as the heavy metal plates slammed together with a boom that shook the floor.
They were inside.
The hallway stretched on forever.
It was a cathedral of data. The walls were thirty feet high, lined from floor to ceiling with small, square containment units. Each one glowed with a faint, pulsing blue light.
The air here felt heavy. It wasn't the jagged "static" of the Graveyard or the city. This was a dense, crushing pressure. It felt like being underwater.
"Whoa," Rook whispered, rubbing his temples. "You feel that? It's like the air is thick."
"It's the density," Lyric said, keeping a hand near the sword hilt. "Millions of memories. Condensed. Trapped."
Lyric walked up to the nearest drawer at eye level. It had a small digital label: Subject 8904 - First Heartbreak.
The next one: Subject 8905 - Witnessed Murder.
"They categorize them," Rook said, looking disgusted. "Like collecting butterflies. It's sick."
"Finch's map," Lyric said, turning away from the glowing wall. "Check the coordinates for Valerius."
Rook pulled out his datapad. The screen flickered.
"Interference is bad down here," Rook muttered, tapping the screen aggressively. "Okay, got it. We're in the Intake Sector. Valerius is in… 'Deep Storage'. Level 9."
"We're on Level 1," Lyric guessed.
"Naturally," Rook sighed. "We need an elevator. And according to this, the elevators are bio-locked. Guild DNA only."
"I don't have Guild DNA," Lyric said. "I erased my identity, remember?"
"Yeah, but maybe your… 'muscle memory' trick works on scanners?" Rook suggested weakly.
"I doubt it." Lyric looked down the hall. "We need a key. Or a finger."
They moved down the hall. It was eerie. No guards. No cameras that they could see. Just the endless hum of the cooling systems and the blue glow of the stolen memories.
They reached a junction. To the left, the hallway continued into darkness. To the right, a large set of double doors marked SECURITY STATION.
"We need a keycard for the elevator," Rook said, pointing to a lift at the end of the hall. The panel was glowing red. "Security station is our best bet."
"It's also where the guards will be," Lyric said.
"If there are any guards," Rook said. "We haven't seen a soul."
Lyric approached the security doors. They were glass, reinforced with mesh. Inside, Lyric could see a desk, monitors, and a figure sitting in a chair.
"One guard," Lyric whispered. "He's not moving."
"Is he sleeping?"
"Let's find out."
Lyric tested the door. Unlocked.
They slipped inside, moving low. Rook pulled out his laser cutter, holding it like a dagger. Lyric drew the ceramic sword.
They crept up on the desk.
The guard was wearing the standard gray uniform of the Vault security. He was slumped forward over the console, his head resting on his arms.
Lyric reached out and shook his shoulder. "Hey."
The guard didn't wake up. He slumped sideways, sliding out of the chair and hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
Rook jumped back. "Is he dead?"
Lyric knelt down and checked for a pulse. "No. His heart is beating. He's breathing."
Lyric lifted one of the guard's eyelids. The eye was there, but the pupil was blown wide, staring at nothing. It was vacant. Empty.
"He's not dead," Lyric said, standing up. "He's wiped. Someone erased him."
"You?" Rook asked.
"No. I just got here." Lyric looked at the monitors. "Someone else is here. Or something else."
Rook looked at the guard's belt. "Well, lucky for us, he doesn't need his keycard anymore."
Rook grabbed the keycard and tossed it to Lyric.
"Let's get to the elevator," Rook said, looking nervously at the drooling guard. "This place creeps me out. It's like a graveyard for the living."
Lyric looked at the monitors one last time. They showed camera feeds from different hallways.
On one screen—Level 4—Lyric saw something.
It was a blur of motion. A white blur.
"Rook," Lyric said, pointing at the screen.
Rook squinted. "Is that… the Architect?"
"No," Lyric said. "The Architect wears a suit. That thing… that thing looks like it's made of static."
The figure on the screen moved fast, twitching and glitching through the hallway. It stopped at a containment drawer, ripped it open, and shoved the glowing blue memory into its own chest.
"It's eating them," Lyric whispered.
"We need to move," Rook said, backing toward the door. "Level 9. Valerius. Then we leave. Fast."
Lyric gripped the keycard. "Agreed."
They exited the security station and ran for the elevator. Lyric swiped the card.
Access Granted. Level 9 Selected.
The doors slid open. They stepped in.
As the doors closed, Lyric looked back down the hallway.
The guard they had just left—the one who was comatose on the floor—was standing up.
He turned slowly to face the elevator. His eyes were glowing blue.
"He woke up," Rook whispered, pressing the 'Close Door' button frantically.
The guard opened his mouth and let out a sound that wasn't human. It was the sound of a dial-up modem mixed with a scream.
The elevator doors slammed shut, cutting off the noise.
The car lurched downward.
"Okay," Lyric said, exhaling. "So the guards aren't sleeping. They're possessed."
"Possessed by what?" Rook asked, checking his laser cutter charge.
"By the memories," Lyric said, watching the floor numbers tick down. "Sector Zero isn't a prison, Rook. It's a hive."