The humming machine pulsed again—once, faintly—before fading back into its dormant silence. Nero watched it until the teal glow died completely. Helia's grip on his wrist loosened, but her eyes never left his face.
"You felt something," she whispered.
Nero nodded slowly. "It was like… the machine recognized me."
Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Machines don't recognize people down here. They barely recognize themselves."
He stepped closer, examining the dusty panel with interest. "Still… impressive reaction. It's been dead longer than I've been hiding down here."
Helia pulled Nero back before he could touch it again. "Leave it. We can't risk triggering a system response."
Something in her voice—protective, edged with fear—made Nero relent. He nodded, stepping away. Klaus dusted off his gloves and motioned toward the far end of the chamber.
"Come on. The platform's not far. We rest here for five minutes, then move."
Nero sat beside a crate, exhaling the tension from his chest. Helia stayed standing, eyes flicking between the broken machines and the entry points. Klaus paced the room, adjusting wires in a half-broken relay panel he clearly understood better than he should.
The silence was thick—too thick—and Nero felt the strange tug of the machine lingering under his skin. The memory of the boy calling his name, the warmth of the hand… all of it pressed into him like a heartbeat superimposed over his own.
Helia noticed him drifting inward. "Nero."
He blinked. "Yeah?"
Her voice softened. "Stay with me."
That simple sentence steadied him more than any stabilizer could.
Klaus clapped his hands softly. "Time's up. Platform's below us—needs a clean drop through the access shaft."
He led them to a grate in the floor. The metal groaned as he pried it up. Cool air drifted from below.
"You first," Klaus said, nodding at Nero.
Nero hesitated, glancing down into the dark shaft. "How far?"
"Far enough to hurt if you fall wrong," Klaus said casually. "But there's support scaffolding halfway down. You'll be fine."
Helia shot him a sharp look. "You could warn him before saying things like that."
Klaus smirked. "Where's the thrill in that?"
Nero took a breath and lowered himself into the shaft, feeling for the first beam. His boots hit metal, and he steadied himself. Helia followed, landing beside him with a soft thud.
Klaus dropped last—silent, controlled. Every movement of his was deliberate, experienced. Nero couldn't help noticing how easily he adapted to danger.
They climbed down the rest of the scaffolding, finally stepping onto a narrow catwalk. Ahead of them, an old maintenance platform extended into a wide hall, lined with dusty conduits and cracked screens flickering weak light.
"This is it," Klaus said, sweeping a hand. "The old transit hub. Last functioning one in this entire section."
Helia scanned the shadows. "Looks abandoned."
"That's why it's perfect."
They walked across the catwalk, boots clicking softly against the metal. Klaus reached the end and began opening a rusted control panel. The machine sputtered to life, lights blinking with irregular pulses.
Nero glanced around uneasily. The wide hall gave him a sinking feeling—as if invisible eyes were crawling over every surface. He caught Helia watching the ceiling, too.
Klaus kept working. "Once I redirect the power, the lower passage will open. It leads to a service line that connects closer to the upper tiers."
Nero swallowed. "You know a lot."
Klaus didn't turn. "Too much, probably."
Helia exchanged a look with Nero. She said nothing—but Nero felt the warning in her silence.
"Alright," Klaus said finally. "Give it a minute to warm—"
A distant metallic thud echoed down the hall.
Helia froze. Nero snapped his head toward the sound.
Another thud. Closer.
Klaus's face tightened. "Damn. Might be a system sweep. Didn't expect it this soon."
Helia pressed her back against Nero. "Lights off."
He reached for the switch—Klaus beat him to it, smashing the emergency lights with the butt of his glove. Darkness swallowed the hall, leaving only the faint blue lines of the broken conduits as their guide.
The thuds became measured. Heavy. Controlled.
Nero's heart clenched.
He knew that rhythm.
Helia whispered, "R_Unit."
Klaus shook his head. "No. Too light. That's—"
A shrill, thin hum cut through the air—scout drones.
Nero's pulse spiked.
"Stay behind me," Helia murmured, raising her weapon.
Drones emerged from the distant shadows, their red sensors slicing across the hall like blades of light. Klaus cursed under his breath.
"How did they find this place?" Helia hissed.
Klaus's voice was tight. "Doesn't matter. Give me ten seconds."
He rushed to the panel again, fingers flying over the ancient controls. Nero didn't understand half the movements, but Klaus moved like he'd done this countless times.
One drone floated directly toward them.
Helia aimed—
A metallic crack echoed as Klaus smashed a secondary fuse with his elbow. Sparks showered the panel as a shockwave of static surged through the hall.
The drones sputtered—shuddering violently.
"Hit the ground!" Klaus shouted.
Nero dropped first, Helia throwing herself down beside him just as the drones convulsed midair, their limbs twitching in glitching spasms. One slammed into the ceiling, scorching metal; another crashed into the wall, scattering broken servos across the floor.
Helia stared at Klaus, breathless. "You just—"
"Reversed their magnetic polarity," Klaus said, exhaling hard. "Lucky guess."
Nero wasn't sure if he was impressed or terrified.
The hall fell quiet again—too quiet.
Klaus hunched over, trying to catch his breath. "Alright… the lower passage is open. We should move before the big guy hears the noise."
Helia tapped Nero's shoulder. "Stay close."
As they moved deeper into the hall, Nero suddenly felt… watched. The sensation crawled across his neck. He turned toward the upper walls—but saw nothing except old displays flickering in half-broken patterns.
Helia felt it too; her eyes narrowed.
Klaus didn't notice—or pretended not to.
They reached the end of the transit hub and stepped onto the descending ramp. Klaus flicked on his flashlight, its beam cutting through the dense air.
"Through here," he said. "You'll be out of this sector within the hour."
Helia stepped forward cautiously.
Nero followed—but something behind him flashed faintly.
A camera lens.
Hidden.Silent.Watching.
Nero's breath caught.
"Klaus," he whispered, "someone is tracking us."
Klaus turned… too slowly.
"What camera?" he asked.
But the look in his eyes—just for a fraction of a second—was all Nero needed.
He knew that camera was there.
He'd always known.