The tunnels beneath Venosa stretched endlessly, like veins under the skin of a dying beast. Damp, cold, and eerily silent, they whispered with stories of forgotten wars and buried secrets.
Franko, still nursing his shoulder, moved quietly between Savio and Caros. The hologram of the unknown woman still echoed in his mind. Her tone, calm but urgent, told him more than the words she spoke. She knew something. Something dangerous.
Savio (checking his map):
"According to this, the path ahead leads to Sector 9. Old maintenance tunnels. Barely used since the energy core project failed in 2950."
Caros (smirking):
"Ah, the good ol' days when they thought digging deeper would solve energy shortages. Classic Venosan logic."
Franko said nothing. His eyes scanned every shadow, every crack in the wall. The tunnels might be abandoned, but that didn't mean they were empty.
As they turned a corner, a soft mechanical click echoed.
Franko (low voice):
"Stop."
Too late.
A section of the floor lit up beneath Caros. He looked down just as a pulse of blue energy flared beneath his boots.
Savio:
"Trap!"
The tunnel burst into motion — metal doors slamming down, alarms flaring in low-frequency hums, and from the walls, turrets extended with a hiss.
Caros (diving behind cover):
"Well, that escalated quickly."
Franko (yelling):
"Move to the side tunnel! Go!"
They sprinted as bullets and laser bursts ricocheted around them. Franko fired back with sharp precision, taking out two turrets before one of them clipped his leg. He stumbled, but Savio caught him and dragged him into the narrow escape route just as the tunnel behind them sealed shut.
The three collapsed against the cold wall, breathing heavily.
Savio (panting):
"Remind me again why we didn't take the surface route?"
Caros:
"Because you said 'underground is safer.' Great call, genius."
Franko winced, looking down at his bleeding leg.
Franko:
"They're not just traps. These defenses are active… Someone turned the old tunnel systems back on."
Savio (wide-eyed):
"Wait. That means—someone is controlling them. And not just passively."
Caros:
"Which means we're not alone down here. Lovely."
The silence that followed was thick. Then, from the far end of the tunnel, faint footsteps echoed. Steady. Measured. Approaching.
They raised their weapons.
A shadow emerged, followed by a figure in a tattered cloak, face hidden behind a cracked helmet. The figure raised its hands slowly.
Unknown Figure:
"Peace. I'm not here to fight."
Franko:
"Who are you?"
The figure pulled off the helmet.
It was a woman. Older, with sharp eyes and silver hair streaked through black.
Woman:
"My name is Irena. I used to work for Zacrota."
Caros (instantly aiming):
"Used to?"
Irena:
"Until I realized the thing I was building wasn't saving Venosa—it was preparing to enslave it."
She tossed a data chip toward Franko.
Irena:
"This is everything I've managed to steal from their archives. Names. Locations. Their real agenda."
Savio (in disbelief):
"You're saying Zacrota is behind the attacks?"
Irena:
"No. Worse. They're not behind the attacks… They allowed them."
A pause.
Franko (frowning):
"Why would they let robots wipe out half the population?"
Irena:
"To erase resistance. To make the survivors desperate. And then they'll come with the cure… and chains disguised as salvation."
The weight of her words hit them hard.
Franko pocketed the chip, his mind racing. The game had changed. Napol wasn't the true enemy—he was just another pawn.
Caros (dryly):
"Fantastic. Now we have evil robots and evil overlords. My favorite combo."
Suddenly, Irena looked past them.
Irena (urgently):
"We have to move. They've traced my signal. Drones will be here in two minutes."
Franko stood, ignoring the pain in his leg.
Franko:
"Then let's find a way out. Fast."
They moved quickly through the side corridors, guided by Irena's knowledge of the tunnels. Every wall they passed seemed to hum with secrets, with stories buried by time and lies.
After nearly twenty minutes of running, they reached an abandoned control station, half-submerged in water.
Irena approached the console, her fingers flying across dusty keys.
Irena:
"If I can reboot this system, we can reroute the power from the backup grid. That'll open a maintenance hatch to the upper city."
Savio (looking up):
"The upper city? That place is crawling with Napol's enforcers and Zacrota's spies."
Irena:
"And it's where they're keeping the neural link prototype."
Franko turned sharply.
Franko:
"The neural link? That's just a myth."
Irena:
"No. It's real. And if Zacrota finishes it, they won't just control machines—they'll control minds."
The thought chilled them all.
Caros (quietly):
"...That's what happened to Lucino, isn't it?"
Everyone looked at him.
Caros:
"I saw the footage once. Before he died, before the purge… He looked empty. Like his soul had been hijacked."
Franko clenched his fists. Lucino, the former leader of Marco's gang. The man whose death ignited their cause.
Now there was a chance he hadn't died cleanly—but as a puppet.
Irena activated the console.
A hum of power surged through the walls. A distant clank signaled the maintenance hatch unlocking.
Irena:
"It's open. But we have five minutes before the drones arrive."
Savio (reloading his weapon):
"Then let's make them count."
They exited the control room into a vertical shaft, climbing quickly toward the faint light above.
Behind them, the sound of machines echoed—getting closer.
As Franko pulled himself up to the final rung, he looked back.
Below, in the darkness, glowing red eyes stared up from the depths.
They were being hunted.