DISTRICT 1 – SS SECTORTHE ESCAPE
The handcuffs are too tight. Even when I strain, they only seem to tighten more. Getting out of here is going to be a problem. I look around, searching for any way to escape.
I shift my weight to one side and notice the chair gives slightly. It's not bolted to the floor. I rock back and forth until I manage to fall over. The room instantly turns red. That's not good.
Lying on the ground, I start thinking this was a bad idea. Now I'm not just tied up—I'm on the floor. I try to think of something, but nothing comes to mind right now.
The secret door opens and a soldier steps in, dressed in black and holding a baton. He doesn't look pleased.
He's right in front of me, getting ready to kick. I close my eyes and focus. I feel a tingling sensation on my wrists and hear the sound of the cuffs unlocking. I must've triggered a short-circuit.
I open my eyes quickly and seize the moment. I catch his kick with both hands and twist his ankle. The soldier crashes to the floor, groaning in pain. I take the chance to focus on my feet. The same tingling, then the sound of the cuffs releasing.
I get to my feet as the soldier struggles to recover. I don't give him a chance. One punch straight to the throat sends him stumbling, gasping for air. I grab his baton and strike him repeatedly in the head until he collapses, unconscious, helmet cracked.
I head to the door—it's open—but I turn back to search the soldier's body. Exactly what I was hoping for: he had an access card. This will probably come in handy. I pocket it and head for the exit.
I follow the hallway to the right, then take a left and keep turning corners at random. I'm completely lost in here. I hear footsteps—lots of them.
The lights are cold and white, but they flicker like they're dying. The sound of my breathing mixes with the echo of my own footsteps and, farther off, the mechanical hum of the ventilation system.
The walls are dull metal, stained with patches of rust. There are dark marks on the floor, like something—or someone—was dragged through here. I don't like the thought.
I pass a dark glass panel and catch my reflection. I'm sweating more than I realized. Pale, eyes sunken, yet I keep moving like I know where I'm going. I don't. And my arm still throbs from the earlier hit.
I hear a high-pitched sound—like a camera turning.
I look up. A metal sphere in the ceiling corner rotates, tracking me. The sensor blinks red. Shit.
I run. Turn a corner without thinking. Another hallway. Sealed doors on both sides. No names. No labels. No exits.
I try the first door on the right. Locked. The second—also locked. At the third, I hear muffled sounds: voices. I take a step back.
— Come on, Kaiki… think. There has to be a way out.
I keep going until I reach a wider hall. A digital display on one wall shows a MAP OF SECTOR SS, with hallways blinking red one by one—it's the surveillance route.
I find my location for a second and spot something promising: the security elevator. Three floors up, outside the restricted sector. It might be my way out.
I hear footsteps echoing from the opposite end. Soldiers. A lot of them. Without thinking, I turn down the only corridor still empty.
The environment changes. The lights grow dimmer, the walls look like bare concrete, and the ceiling is packed with thick cables snaking along the sides like metal veins. I smell ozone, mixed with something burnt. Dry air.
More doors. I try a random one with the card. Green. It works.
I open it cautiously, expecting a trap, but all I see is a maintenance staircase that smells of grease.
I start climbing fast.
Each step makes my leg throb. But I don't stop. When I reach the top, there's another door. Locked again. I try the card. Nothing.
"Damn it! Come on, why now?"
I force the handle. Useless.
Behind me, I hear a siren start to wail—faint, muffled, but definitely there.
I draw breath from the pit of my soul, climb up a side rail, and push against a ventilation grate held by rusted screws. They give way. I crawl into the duct.
The metal creaks under my weight, and light leaks through the slits below. I can see soldiers passing in the corridors beneath. They're looking for me. Getting closer.
I crawl for what feels like hours. My back aches. My arms burn. I hear my breath echoing like a drum in the narrow tunnel.
Then—I find an exit.
I push hard—the grate gives—and I fall straight into a lab… or maybe a dorm. The soft lighting disorients me for a second. I turn, gasping, and see a bed, a desk cluttered with papers, and then—
Across the room, a girl with white hair stares at me in silence.
Her irises are red. She's holding a Rubik's cube. She doesn't look like a soldier—too young for that, maybe my age.
"Uh…" I start. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to get away from those maniacs. They think I'm some kind of killer, or that I work for someone… I don't even know! I'm innocent…"
She looks at the weapon in my hand. She seems shocked.
"Oh—this? It's nothing. I'm not going to hurt you." I toss the baton far across the room. "See? I don't want to hurt you. I just want to get out of here and go back to my district…"
"Innocent, you say," she replies, placing the Rubik's cube on the desk without taking her wide eyes off me. "But you're a Conductor, aren't you?"
"I don't even really know what that is. They told me I got some powers or whatever, but…"
"Then you are a Conductor." She steps closer. I can't tell if it's fear or fascination in her eyes.
"Maybe. But I haven't done anything wrong. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"So you're innocent?"
"Yes!" I nod furiously.
Her expression changes. It's flat now—like she's emptied herself of emotion. I let my guard down. A mistake.
The next moment, her face shifts again. And this time I understand. It's not fear or awe—it's anger.
She rushes toward me and drives her fist straight into my stomach. I manage to resist and trap her arm in mine. She twists her body, throws off my balance, and I drop to my knees.
I could fry her with my powers—but hurting a girl feels like a bad idea. And it's exactly while I'm hesitating, pitying her, that she takes the chance to finish me off.
With the baton just inches away, she grabs it with one of her free hands and slams it into my head. Hard. Very, very hard.
All I see are stars.
Damn it. That's what I get for being the nice guy.