The tunnel sloped deeper, and the air got colder.
Lights flickered red along the walls, pulsing like a heartbeat. Pipes dripped something that wasn't water. The deeper they went, the quieter the world above became no sirens, no rain, no helicopters. Just footsteps and breathing.
Juvy hugged her arms. "This place feels like it's breathing."
Varkos smirked. "It is. Old subway tunnels. Old graves. Old secrets. City built over too much dirt."
They passed guards with modified rifles and glowing visors. Some nodded at Varkos. Others stared at the twins like they were staring at a storm.
Maxruell felt it again.
That pull.
Like something below him was calling his name in a voice made of stone.
They entered a chamber carved straight into rock. Not concrete. Rock. Candles burned in glass skulls. A long table sat in the middle, surrounded by criminals in coats, masks, and armor.
Varkos raised his voice. "Meeting's moved up. Guests of honor."
Every eye turned.
A woman with cybernetic eyes leaned back in her chair. "Those are the twins?"
A man with gold teeth spat. "They look like food."
Maxruell's shadow twitched.
Varkos slammed his fist on the table. "They just wiped a cult squad. Show some respect."
Juvy whispered, "Max… there are souls everywhere here."
"Yeah," he muttered. "I feel it too."
Varkos took his seat at the head. "We got a problem. Cult's pushing into our tunnels. Government dogs circling the surface. And now the twins popped up like a curse."
The gold-toothed man laughed. "We sell them."
Juvy stiffened.
Maxruell's eyes darkened. "Try it."
The lights dimmed.
The man froze as his shadow lifted off the floor and wrapped around his throat.
Bones creaked.
Varkos raised a hand. "Easy. That was a joke."
Maxruell released him. The man collapsed, coughing.
Varkos continued, "Here's the play. We hide them. Feed them. Train them. And we use them when the cult hits."
The cyber-eyed woman tilted her head. "And when the government comes?"
Varkos shrugged. "We make the city bleed."
Silence settled heavy.
Juvy spoke quietly, "We're not weapons."
Every gangster laughed.
Maxruell didn't.
He felt something slip again.
He couldn't remember the sound of his mother's voice.
That scared him more than the meeting.
Varkos stood. "You two get a room. You don't leave without my say."
"Prison," Juvy said.
"Sanctuary," Varkos replied. "Depends who's knocking."
They led them through twisting tunnels into a small concrete room with a steel door and one dim light.
A mattress on the floor. A bucket in the corner.
Juvy sat and buried her face in her hands.
Maxruell leaned against the wall, shadows pooling around his feet.
"We're trapped," she whispered.
"For now."
She looked up. "Max… you're different."
He hesitated. "Different how?"
"Like… colder."
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stared at his reflection in the dark metal door.
His eyes were almost black now.
He touched his chest.
The crystal pulsed softly under his skin.
A whisper brushed his mind:
Soon.
Maxruell clenched his fist.
"No."
Juvy lay down on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. "Do you think Mom would hate what we're becoming?"
The question cut deeper than any knife.
"I think she'd hate the world more," he said.
Lights flickered outside the room.
Somewhere in the tunnels, something screamed.
Far above them, the year 2041 blinked on broken digital billboards, counting down toward a future already rotting.
Maxruell sat beside his sister.
"We survive," he said. "That's it. That's the rule."
Juvy nodded weakly.
But the walls kept whispering.
And beneath them, the underworld listened.