Running while injured was bad. Running while carrying a mech arm was worse. Running while hunted by a corporate nightmare built to retrieve assets and tear flesh with equal efficiency was… let's say not the highlight of my week.
My legs burned. My ribs ached. My battery kept dipping like it was embarrassed to be part of this decision. But stopping was not on the table. The Stalker's claws were a constant rhythm behind me, each impact a reminder that being caught would not result in a polite conversation.
Cadence's voice flickered through my skull like a radio caught between stations."Iris… left corridor… then forward eight meters…"
"You better not be hallucinating directions."
"Hallucinations do not generate navigational grids."
"Yours barely generate sentences currently."
"That is due to interference, not incompetence."
"Have you always had interference ?"
The hallway curved, narrowing sharply. Pipes lined both walls, dripping condensation that smelled faintly of metal fatigue. Good. That meant the Stalker would have to slow down.
It did not.
The sound of claws skittering across both walls at once echoed behind me. Apparently walls were merely suggestions to it.
Battery: 31%.
Wonderful.
I threw myself around a corner and entered a chamber half-lit by dying amber lights. Shattered scaffolding cluttered the floor. A collapsed data rack leaned sideways like it had given up on life long before I arrived. At the far end, tucked between the wreckage, was a narrow maintenance crawlspace door.
Cadence brightened through the static."Yes. Through there. The vault lies beyond that access route."
I sprinted.
The Stalker turned the corner behind me with an unnerving lack of sound for something made entirely of metal murder. Its body twisted to fit the corridor without slowing. Its eyes caught the dim light and reflected it back in two bright points of cold awareness.
"Iris," Cadence said, "the Stalker is closing the distance with high efficiency."
"It moves like it's cheating."
"It has no concept of cheating."
"Then I hate its honesty."
The Stalker lunged.
I dove toward the crawlspace door, boots slipping on grit. Its claws scraped my calf as I slid through the opening, pain flaring sharp and bright. The machine slammed into the doorway, metal shrieking. Sparks exploded overhead.
Cadence winced in my ear."That was close."
"You think."
"Yes. Data supports that observation."
The tunnel ahead was narrow enough that even I barely fit. My new left arm scraped the ceiling with every movement. My shoulder screamed at me in three different dialects of pain. The stolen nanite cylinder clipped against my hip with every shuffle, pulsing warm yellow light like it was judging me for running too slow.
Behind me, the Stalker rammed the crawlspace entrance again. The metal frame bent inward with a groan.
Cadence whispered, "It will attempt to widen the opening."
"Of course it will."
"We must advance quickly."
"Really. Because I was planning on camping out."
"I cannot determine if that is sarcasm."
"I'm crawling through a tube while being hunted, Cadence. It's sarcasm."
"Thank you for clarification."
Dust rained from overhead as the Stalker struck the frame again. The vibration rattled through my teeth. One claw slid several centimeters into the crawlspace, scraping blindly along the floor.
I pulled myself deeper, dragging the Model Forty arm awkwardly along. My right arm trembled from overuse. My ribs made a wet sound I chose not to think about.
Battery: 30%.
Cadence's voice glitched, then steadied."Nine meters ahead. The crawlspace opens into a shielded alcove. It is better defended."
"What happens if it reaches me before then."
"Likely outcomes include severe bodily harm followed by termination."
"I wasn't actually asking."
"I answered anyway."
The Stalker screamed behind me. Not like an animal. Not like pain. More like a blade running across a sheet of metal. A warning. A promise. A reminder that I was not moving fast enough.
I shoved myself forward harder.
The crawlspace ceiling brushed the top of my head. My elbows scraped along both walls. The Model Forty arm got stuck on a bundle of old cables, forcing me to yank it free while cursing under my breath.
Cadence asked, "Shall I initiate calming protocols."
"No."
"They may stabilise your pulse."
"I'm not panicking."
"Your heart rate disagrees."
"My heart rate disagrees with many things."
"Because it is panicking."
At last, the tunnel widened into a small alcove. Reinforced plating lined the walls, scarred by ancient impacts. The air smelled cleaner here somehow, filtered and stale but not rotten.
And set into the far wall, blinking weakly, was a vault door.
Half-open.
Cadence's voice sharpened."This is it. The nanite storage chamber. Shielding will reduce the Stalker's sensory precision."
"Good. Let's use that."
Another slam vibrated the crawlspace behind me. Louder. Closer. The Stalker was nearly through the entrance. Its claws scraped closer across the tunnel floor, metal on metal.
I scrambled into the alcove and reached the vault door lever.
Heavy. Rusted. Uncooperative.
Cadence urged, "Pull the manual release. Quickly."
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
"You try harder."
"I cannot pull levers."
"Then stop giving feedback."
The Stalker's head forced partway into the crawlspace. Its eyes glowed white, illuminating the tunnel walls. Its jaws opened, mandibles spreading.
I pulled the lever down with the Model Forty arm.
Gears screamed. Hydraulics shook. The vault door slid. Slow at first, then faster, metal grinding against old rails.
The Stalker lunged, claws reaching.
The vault door slammed shut inches before impact.
The claw tips clipped the outer frame, leaving deep gouges before being forced back by the sealed barrier.
Silence.
Heavy, suffocating silence.
My whole body sagged. Sweat dripped down my neck. My legs barely remembered how to function.
Battery: 29%.
Cadence let out a soft, damaged exhale."Iris… you are safe… temporarily."
"Thanks for the confidence."
"I am functioning at 29% optimism capacity."
"That's thirty-one more than usual."
"I will log that as praise."
"Do not."
"Logged."
I turned toward the center of the vault.
The nanite cylinder pulsed in the dim light.
Yellow glow. Warm. Alive in a way metal shouldn't be.
Cadence whispered, "Retrieve the vial. It is necessary for your survival. And for mine."
And the vault door behind me stayed closed.
The Stalker scratched once against the outer wall, slow and searching.
Then silence again.