"Go! Go! Go!" Anya's scream propelled us forward, the adrenaline momentarily overriding the exhaustion and the pounding in my head. I stumbled after Leo through the ragged hole where the reinforced concrete pillar had stood moments before, the acrid smell of pulverized concrete and ozone thick in the air. Behind us, the enraged hisses and screeches of the Glitch-Wraiths pouring into the junction faded slightly as we plunged into the unknown darkness beyond the breach.
Anya was right behind me, pausing only long enough to fire another concussive blast from her sidearm back towards the compromised main door, hopefully discouraging immediate pursuit, before following us through.
We found ourselves not in a finished tunnel, but a rough service passage, clearly never intended for regular traffic. The air here was different. It was heavy, still, tasting of damp earth, cold stone, and something metallic, like licking rusted iron. It was blessedly free of the Wraiths' corrosive presence and the hydraulic fluid I was still partially coated in, but it wasn't exactly welcoming. The ground underfoot was uneven bedrock, slick with moisture. Faintly phosphorescent fungi clung in patches to the rough-hewn walls, casting an eerie, insufficient green glow that barely pushed back the oppressive darkness beyond the reach of Anya's shoulder-mounted flashlight beam.
"This way!" Anya grunted, taking point immediately. Her flashlight beam danced ahead, revealing a narrow, twisting passage barely wide enough for us to walk single file. Water trickled down the walls, pooling in shallow puddles on the uneven floor. "Looks like an old geological survey tunnel, or maybe drainage overflow. Definitely not on any standard Undercroft map I ever saw."
Leo stumbled slightly on the slick rock, catching himself against the wall. He looked back towards the ragged hole, now just a dark opening behind us, his face pale in the eerie green glow of the fungi. "Are they… following?"
Anya paused, listening intently. The only sounds were our own ragged breathing, the drip of water, and a faint, low rumble from somewhere deep within the earth... perhaps the distant operations of still-functioning geothermal taps, or just the planet's indigestion. No hissing. No scraping. "Don't think so," she said finally, though her hand stayed near her sidearm. "That blast probably disoriented them, and the structural collapse might have made them hesitant. Wraiths are nasty, but not always stupid. They might not risk following into an unknown, unstable passage immediately."
Small mercies, I thought, leaning against the cold, damp rock wall, trying to regain some equilibrium. My head swam. The faint green phosphorescence seemed to pulse sickeningly in time with my headache. Assessing my cognitive state: still garbage. Focusing felt like trying to grip smoke. The mental 'static' persisted, making even simple recall feel sluggish. Remember Anya's reasoning for the pit stop? Check. Essential maintenance, cooldown, brain repair. Remember the SOS signal? Check. Quadrant 7G. Need the rig working. Remember my own name? Mostly check. Progress was minimal. Recovery was clearly going to be a slow burn.
"Keep moving," Anya urged, pushing onward. "This passage could collapse, flood, or just plain end. We need to find a junction with the main tunnels."
We shuffled onward through the narrow, twisting passage. It felt like miles, though it was probably only a few hundred yards. The air grew progressively colder, damper. The metallic tang intensified. Occasionally, the rock walls would shimmer faintly, similar to the instability pockets in the upper tunnels, but these felt older, more settled – echoes of reality stress, not active threats. Still, we skirted them cautiously.
Leo, despite his fatigue and fear, seemed to regain some composure in the new environment. His eyes scanned the rock formations, the water seepage patterns, the structure of the passage itself. "This wasn't natural," he murmured after a while, running a hand along a section of wall that showed faint, regular scarring. "These marks… maybe mining tools? Or boring equipment? Very old."
"Place is full of forgotten projects," Anya confirmed without slowing. "City planners, corporations, military… they burrowed all over the place before the Crash. Who knows what they left behind?"
Finally, the passage began to widen. The rough-hewn rock gave way to sections of ancient, crumbling brickwork, suggesting we were intersecting with older city infrastructure. Ahead, Anya's flashlight beam caught the welcome sight of a larger opening, an archway leading into what looked like a main Undercroft thoroughfare.
"Alright," Anya breathed, pausing just before the archway, peering cautiously into the larger tunnel beyond. "Looks like the old Sector 5 aqueduct bypass. Should lead west towards the freighter elevator shafts eventually."
The thoroughfare beyond the archway was wider, easily accommodating the Probability Drive if we could retrieve it. Faint emergency lighting flickered intermittently along its length, casting long, dancing shadows. The air here smelled slightly less of decay and more of stale, recycled air, suggesting proximity to ventilation systems, however defunct. Sounds echoed differently here, the cavernous space carried faint rumbles and clanks from indeterminate distances. It felt marginally less claustrophobic, but also more exposed.
"Okay," Anya said, stepping through the archway, weapon ready. "We need to circle back to the junction, retrieve the rig. Quickly, quietly. Hope those Wraiths got bored and wandered off."
But as I took a step towards the archway, a faint prickle ran across my skin: the barest whisper from my damaged [Perceive Glitch] skill. Not a Wraith signature, their corrosive static felt different. Something else. A faint, localized coldness again, near the floor of the main tunnel, just beyond the arch. Followed by… a scuffing sound? Like something soft but heavy being dragged across concrete.
"Wait," I croaked, holding up a hand. My head throbbed with the minimal effort. "Something… else."
Anya froze, instantly alert. Leo stopped beside me, peering nervously into the thoroughfare. Anya swept her flashlight beam across the tunnel floor near the cold spot I indicated.
Empty. Just dust, debris, and more puddles.
Then, the beam caught it. Faint drag marks in the dust, leading away from our position, heading deeper into the aqueduct bypass tunnel. Beside the marks, almost obscured by shadow, was a small, dark object.
A single, discarded boot. Scuffed leather, worn sole. Looked relatively recent. Not ancient debris.
Anya approached cautiously, keeping her light steady on the object while scanning the surrounding darkness. She nudged it with the toe of her boot. It rolled slightly, revealing itself. Not empty.
We weren't the first ones to come through here recently. And judging by the drag marks and the single boot, which appeared to still contain the grisly remains of a foot, whoever it was hadn't left willingly.
The silence of the thoroughfare suddenly felt much heavier, charged with a different kind of menace. It wasn't just environmental hazards and Glitch-spawn down here. Someone, or something, else was active. Hunting? Scavenging?
Our supposedly secure route back to the Probability Drive, back to our only means of serious transportation, suddenly felt fraught with fresh, unknown peril. And the URE chose that moment to offer its wisdom:
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[Environmental Alert: Unidentified Biosignatures Detected Nearby (Non-Hostile? Maybe?)]
[Cross-Reference Found: Drag Marks Consistent with Predation/Scavenging Activity by Entity Type: [DATA CORRUPTED] ]
Suggestion: Proceed with Caution (Or Panic Quietly).
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Data corrupted entity type. Wonderful.
Anya looked at the boot and its contents, then down the tunnel where the drag marks disappeared into the shadows. Her expression was grim. "Okay," she murmured, almost too quietly. "Maybe circling straight back isn't the best idea right now."
Our escape from the junction hadn't led us to safety, just smack-dab into a different layer of the Undercroft's deadly onion.