The crawlspace narrowed again before opening into a rectangular maintenance vent. Dust floated in thin layers, glittering whenever Helia's handlight swept past. Nero climbed out first, landing on a grated walkway overlooking a long corridor below. The air was warmer here, faintly buzzing with power.
Helia followed, landing beside him with barely a sound.
For a moment, they just stood there—breathing the stale air, grounding themselves after what they had witnessed. The silence was almost comforting, until Nero felt the metal beneath them tremble—soft, like something stirring awake beneath the floor.
Helia noticed it too.
"Move," she whispered. "Now."
They hurried down the narrow catwalk, boots thudding lightly on metal. Below them, the main corridor stretched in both directions, thick cables running along the floor like veins. The lights flickered in irregular patterns.
Almost like… blinking.
Nero swallowed. "Is it just me, or does this place feel alive?"
Helia didn't slow. "The Archive is alive. In its own way."
Nero didn't respond. He wasn't sure he wanted to understand what that meant.
They reached the end of the catwalk, where a vertical ladder descended into the corridor. Helia climbed down first, scanning the far corners with her weapon ready.
Nero followed, landing softly beside her.
For a brief second, the corridor looked empty.
Then—A dull thump echoed from behind them.
Helia spun, weapon raised.
The lights flickered again. Once. Twice. Then all at once.
A wave of cold rippled through the air.
Nero froze. "Helia…"
"I feel it too," she whispered.
The hum of machinery grew louder—deeper—vibrating through the walls. Nero's pulse quickened as a red glow seeped in from the far end of the corridor.
Shadows stretched across the floor.
The Reconstruction Unit?
No.This was smaller.Faster.
The red glow sharpened—
Two mechanical drones—sleek, spider-like, metallic—skittered around the corner. Their limbs clicked sharply as they crawled across the floor and walls, scanners glowing crimson.
Helia hissed, "Scout models. Usually paired with a Unit."
Nero felt panic climb his throat. "So the Unit is—"
"Close." Her jaw tightened. "We need to disable them before they alert it."
The closest drone screeched—A piercing metallic shriek that stabbed through Nero's skull.
Helia fired. The shot struck the drone's central lens, making it jerk violently. Sparks exploded from its body, and it collapsed in a spasm of twitching limbs.
The second drone darted sideways, impossibly fast.
Helia aimed again—Too slow.
The drone launched itself toward Nero.
A flash of metal.A blur of motion.A slicing sound.
Nero didn't think.Veyra surged—faint but sharp, like a blade under his skin. His hand thrust out on instinct.
A ripple of teal light lashed from his palm.
The drone slammed mid-air as if hitting an invisible wall. Its body snapped backward, skidding across the metal floor before smashing into a pipe with a crunch.
Silence followed. A thick, shaky silence.
Helia lowered her weapon slowly, eyes wide.
"You… did it again," she breathed.
Nero stared at his hand. Unlike before, the pulse didn't hurt. It didn't feel wild. It felt—
Controlled.Intentional.
He swallowed. "I didn't feel out of control. I just… knew what it needed to do."
Helia's eyes narrowed—fear mixed with awe. "That's not normal. Prototypes don't instinctively shape Veyra."
"But I'm not supposed to exist either," Nero said quietly.
Helia didn't argue.
She walked to the broken drones, kneeling beside one. Her hands moved quickly, checking circuits, scanning identifiers. After a moment, she looked up with a grim expression.
"These two were already tracking this corridor. Meaning the Unit predicted our path minutes ago."
"How far behind?" Nero whispered.
Helia froze.
Metal clanged in the distance—heavy, rhythmic, deliberate.
Boom.Boom.Boom.
Nero felt the vibration through the soles of his boots.
Helia snapped to her feet. "Run."
They sprinted down the corridor, turning sharply into a side passage. Pipes burst overhead as they passed, spraying cold air. The Archive was reacting, shifting, trying to funnel them somewhere.
They reached another junction—one corridor collapsing in sparks, another sealing behind sliding metal plates.
Only one path remained open.
"A trap," Helia muttered.
"A choice," Nero countered.
Their eyes met.
And for a moment, nothing else existed—just the shared breath between them, the unspoken trust growing like a fragile flame.
Helia nodded once, silently accepting his instinct.
They ran.
The chosen corridor widened unexpectedly, opening into a large, dimly lit space—massive pillars rising into darkness above, old consoles lining the walls. Dust hung thick in the air.
Nero slowed. "What is this place?"
Helia scanned the room with her light. "A routing hub. Used to direct system pathways. If we can access a terminal—"
Before she finished, a sharp beep echoed through the room.
A holographic interface flickered alive at the far end—its teal glow pulsing weakly. Lines of corrupted code flowed across it.
Nero felt a chill.
The interface whispered.
"…Twelve…"
Helia stiffened. "Nero, don't go closer."
But his feet were already moving. Drawn forward. Not by curiosity, but something deeper—like a tug on his very memories.
The hologram shivered—forming a fractured image. Not a person. Not a prototype.
Data.But… familiar data.
A child's silhouette.Small.Barely more than a shadow.
Prototype Eleven.
Nero's heart clenched.
"Why… why is his data here?" he whispered.
Helia's voice trembled slightly. "Because this hub stored the pathways of erased prototypes."
The silhouette flickered, then repeated a tiny movement—a hand reaching outward.
Helia's breath caught. "Nero. That's a memory echo. A real one."
Prototype Eleven reached out again—glitching, dimming, his small face contorting with fear before fading into static.
Nero's chest caved.
"It's him," he whispered, stepping closer despite Helia's warning.
"Nero—"
"He's scared."
Helia grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. Her grip was firm, grounding. "You can't help him from here. This is only a fragment."
Nero swallowed hard, emotion burning behind his eyes.A child erased.Begging for help.Trapped as nothing but data.
Helia slowly eased her hand from his shoulder, softer now.
"We'll save him," she whispered. "But not like this."
Her voice was quiet… almost promising.
Nero blinked once—hard—and stepped back. The hologram dimmed, as if acknowledging his choice.
Helia looked at him like she understood something important—something Nero hadn't said out loud.
The moment cracked as a thunderous crash echoed behind them.
The Reconstruction Unit had found the hub.
Helia cursed under her breath. "We need an exit. Now."
Nero pointed to a far door half-buried under loose metal. "There—looks like a service lift."
Helia nodded and sprinted toward it with Nero close behind. The unit's mechanical roar echoed down the corridor as it advanced, heavy steps shaking dust from the rafters.
They reached the lift door.
Helia smashed the manual override.
The door screeched open.
A cold wind swept upward—a vertical shaft descending into more darkness.
"Down," Helia ordered.
Nero didn't argue.
He climbed onto the emergency ladder, Helia following seconds later. The door slid shut above them just as a massive metallic claw smashed against it.
The impact rattled the ladder, sending vibrations echoing down into the dark.
Helia looked down.
Nero looked up.
For a moment, they were suspended between two impossible worlds—one hunting them, one hiding answers.
"Helia?" Nero whispered.
"Yeah?"
"You said… we'll save him." His voice wavered. "Did you mean it?"
She met his eyes in the dim light.
Completely, unwaveringly.
"Yes."
The ladder trembled again.
And together, they climbed into the unknown.