Elara's reply arrived unexpectedly, a small encrypted file that appeared on my holodevice just hours after my message. It contained no text, just a series of coordinates and a time. Sector 7. Midnight. No further explanation. It was typical of her, concise and mysterious.
The idea of venturing into Sector 7 at midnight made my stomach churn with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Sector 7 was a gray area on official maps, a labyrinth of abandoned buildings and underground workshops where the System exercised less ironclad control, or at least, less obvious surveillance. It was a refuge for misfits, those who refused to fit into the mold, those who lived on the fringes of controlled society. It was also a dangerous place, where the System's rules dissolved and others, darker and less predictable, emerged.
I left my apartment shortly before midnight, making sure my proximity scanner was working properly, even though I knew that in Sector 7 it would likely be a less useful signal. The streets, normally lit with a bright, constant artificial light, became dimmer and more sinister as I approached the Sector 7 border. The architecture changed from the uniform, functional blocks to older buildings, with crumbling facades and boarded-up windows, silent witnesses to an earlier era.
As I crossed the unofficial boundary, I felt a palpable difference in the atmosphere. The air seemed heavier, permeated with the smell of rusty metal and smoke. The usual silence of the controlled city was replaced by a constant murmur of underground activity, the distant echo of unauthorized music and whispered conversations. Here, cameras were less frequent and cruder, often vandalized or simply ignored.
The coordinates led me to a dark alley flanked by walls covered in faded graffiti. At the end of the alley, a dim light filtered from under a rusty metal gate. I hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of doubt. Was I doing the right thing? Could I trust Elara after all this time?
I took a deep breath and stepped forward, knocking on the door with three short raps, just as I remembered we used to do. A moment of tense silence followed before a small peephole creaked open. A dark, piercing eye peered into me.
"Kang Gun?" a female voice asked, raspy and slightly distrustful. It was Elara, though her face was more defined and her hair, once dyed electric blue, was now an indistinct, disheveled color.
"Elara," I replied, feeling a mixture of relief and nervousness.
The door opened with a loud creak, revealing a small, chaotic workshop, lit by the flickering light of several makeshift lamps and work lights. Wires and electronic components were strewn everywhere, covering makeshift tables and shelves. Amid the mess, Elara watched me with a scrutinizing expression.
"You've changed," he said, his gaze scanning me from head to toe. "The System has tamed you a bit."
"Survive," I replied, entering the workshop. The smell of solder and burnt circuitry was surprisingly familiar.
"Well?" he asked, crossing his arms. "I don't think you came all the way to my lair just to reminisce. What do you need?"
I showed him the old storage unit I had hidden under my jacket. "I found this. I think there might be important information in it, something the System doesn't want us to see."
Elara's eyes lit up with interest. She took the unit carefully, examining it with a practiced eye. "Antique. Very old. I like it."
She smiled for the first time since I'd seen her, a crooked but genuine smile that reminded me of the Elara I knew. In that moment, in that dark, cluttered workshop, I felt for the first time in a long time that I wasn't completely alone in my growing distrust of the world around us. Elara was a familiar face in the homogeneous crowd, a spark of individuality in the controlled monotony.
"Can you access it?" I asked, holding my breath.
Elara placed the unit on a table full of tools and looked at me with an enigmatic smile. "Let's just say I have my methods. But it won't be easy. The System doesn't bury these things without setting traps."
What kind of traps do you think Elara might encounter? What do you expect to find in that storage unit? Do you feel you made the right decision by contacting Elara?
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