Stretching out, I can feel every muscle loosening up, a rare treat in these harsh times. It's the kind of stretch that makes you appreciate the little things... even when the world's fallen apart around you. I step out into the street, which is eerily quiet, save for the distant sound of a structure crumbling under its own decay. "Ahhh..." I exhale in relief. There's an odd sense of peace that comes with only seeing a few of the big brutes around. Their rumbling presence scares off the smaller pests that usually nip at my heels.
I stroll through the deserted avenue, my eyes scanning the skyline. "Seriously, what's with these skyscrapers?" I mutter to myself. Over on the other side, where the regular folks lived, not a single building dared to stretch this high. Here, every corner boasts a monument to wealth, now just tombs reaching for a sky that doesn't care.
I'm about to turn the corner when something catches my eye—a bicycle, just propped up there as if waiting for me. I halt in my tracks, my eyes narrowing in suspicion before a grin starts to form. "Well, well, what do we have here?" I approach, giving the bike a once-over. It's in surprisingly good shape, a beacon of past normalcy standing out against the backdrop of ruin.
Running a hand along the handle, I consider the possibilities. It's been ages since I rode one, but the thought of cruising past the ruins, wind in my face, is pretty damn appealing. "This could be fun," I say to the bike, as if it's going to respond. I swing a leg over, feeling the familiar firmness of the seat.
With a push, I'm off, the bike wobbling slightly as I find my balance. I pick up speed, the breeze a welcome slap against my skin. "Thanks to those huge monsters running around, all the smaller ones have left the area," I think. But as I pedal faster, the wind snatching the words from my lips, I can't help but scoff at the rich folks who used to live here. "Fucking rich people," I sneer, gliding past their fallen sanctuaries. "Not a single skyscraper on the other side, yet they have them here on every damn corner."
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
-Back to the present. Saxon's POV
Peering at the door, I can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on us. "If we're going to head back we need to run real fast. It's completely infested and none of us can get caught," I say, my voice low but piercing the heavy air with urgency. Everyone's eyes are on me, their nods silent but determined.
Draken sucks in a deep breath, his resolve hardening. "Trust us, the last thing we want is another hoard." There's a grim edge to his voice, one that speaks of experience—and memories best left unvisited.
With a last scan of the desolate landscape, my glasses zooming to bring the distant into sharp relief, I confirm the coast is clear. "Now!" I hiss, and we break into a sprint, our feet pounding the cracked pavement.
The rush of the run is a wild drumbeat in my ears, my heart syncing with the rhythm. We dart through the ghost of a city, a place that once thrummed with life but now whispers with the echoes of the dead and the lurking threats of the monsters.
"Hahaha, that was a fun little run," I chuckle, the thrill of the dash not quite faded, as I slam the door to the Vault of Virtues shut behind us. There's an echo of the sentiment in the group—a shared relief, a communal surge of adrenaline.
There's no need for caution here, at least not the kind that has us looking over our shoulders. "I already killed most of the monsters here," I tell them, a matter-of-fact boast. "Where do we need to head, Jenna?" I'm curious, more about her than the artifact. She's a high-ranking hunter who somehow seems both out of place and perfectly at home in this chaos.
Jenna nods sharply, her eyes alight with purpose. She turns to Tamsin. "You worked here right? Take us to the boiler room with the fastest route possible."
Tamsin blinks, her fear palpable even in her voice. "Y-yeah I worked here for a long time but... why do you need to go to the boiler room?" she stammers, but she's already leading the way, her feet knowing the path even if her mind doesn't.
As we stride through the corridors at a brisk pace, Jenna's next words throw me for a loop. "You don't know this since only the manager is supposed to know but there is a hidden elevator in the boiler room."
I can't help it; I raise an eyebrow. "A secret elevator? Why don't I know about this?" My voice holds a tinge of annoyance—information is currency, and I hate being in debt.
"Your rank is not high enough," Jenna replies without looking back. That stings, not gonna lie. I had plans to climb the ranks, but the world decided to end before I got the chance.
Reaching the boiler room, Jenna doesn't pause for breath or celebration; her relief is all business. "Finally..." she murmurs and strides over to a blank stretch of wall.
I watch her place a hand on the seemingly random spot. To anyone else, it would look like she's lost it, but I know better. My glasses light up as I tune into the latent network beneath the surface. "Ah, I see," I murmur, the hidden pathways revealing themselves to me, a map only I can read.
The wall seems to come alive at Jenna's touch, scanning her hand before the opposite wall slides away, revealing the concealed elevator. It's high-tech stuff, the kind of thing that reeks of old money and secrecy—two things that were plentiful in this city before the fall.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Pedaling like a madman, my legs pump with a rhythm born of desperation. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" My heart's pounding in my chest, a drumbeat that's far too fast to be healthy. "Hold on tight, Lilo!" I shout over the roar of wind and the monster's guttural howls behind us.
Lilo, the cat who's become my unexpected companion, clings to my shoulder, his claws a piercing reminder that we're both alive and kicking – for now. Her wide eyes mirror my own fear. "Come on, Lilo! Stop spacing out, we're going to survive this!"
The abomination chasing us is a horror show come to life. Its skin is a patchwork of oozing sores and scales that look like they've been borrowed from every nightmare imaginable. It's got too many eyes, all bloodshot and bulging, set in a face that could only be a mother's last regret. Its mouth is an abyss lined with jagged teeth, dripping with a venom that sizzles when it hits the ground.
Why did I end up like this!? I curse my bad luck, but there's a spark of hope yet. I had the foresight to prepare for a worst-case scenario – a welcome bit of paranoia.
With a quick glance over my shoulder, I make a sharp turn down an alley, the monster's size working against it as it barrels straight into a brick wall. The impact sends a cloud of dust and debris into the air, and for a second, the world is nothing but the sound of crumbling masonry.
"Hahaha, die!" I can't help but let out a maniacal laugh as I hit the button on the remote I've been gripping tight enough to leave indentations in my palm.
One by one, the fireworks go off, a cascade of sparks and flames, each one a miniature explosion against the beast's hideous form. The cacophony is deafening, a symphony of my own making, and for a moment, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
As the fireworks erupt, turning the alley into a deathtrap of light and sound, I don't look back. I just pedal harder, Lilo and I racing towards a future that's anything but certain.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
As the elevator descends, the silence is almost tangible. Jenna takes a deep breath, trying to steady the anticipation coursing through her veins. How long has it been since I've been down here? The thought is a whisper in her mind, echoing the hum of the elevator.
Draken, leaning against the wall, breaks the quiet. "Damn... we've been in here for 40 minutes, just how deep are we going?" His voice carries a mix of awe and unease.
Jenna does the mental math quickly. It's around 9,150 meters deep... "Around 7 more minutes," she answers, her voice steady.
Tamsin's voice is small, almost lost in the vastness of their descent. "Why? Why did they make it so deep?"
Jenna's fingers twitch involuntarily at the question, her eyes focused on the descending numbers. "Because depending on how much mastery one has over their artifact, the range of sensing your artifact extends. For high rankers, the range is around 9 kilometers. Some artifacts can be used from that range. In order to prevent that, they put them deep enough so we can't sense or use them while we're in the city."
The handle of the elevator feels solid under Jenna's grip, until it isn't. She squeezes too tight, metal creaking, and suddenly it's in pieces in her hand. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just I haven't had my artifact in so long, and it's practically begging me to hurry up."
From the corner of her eye, she sees Saxon grinning, a knowing look in his eyes. "Yeah, I know that feeling, I've had it once myself." His voice is understanding, a shared sentiment between hunters.
Jenna can't help but feel a response to that grin, a corner of her mouth twitching upward. Just a bit more, baby, hold on a bit longer and I'll reach you.
★
-Jenna's POV
The elevator doors part, and I'm hit with the sight of the long, sterile hallway, its end not visible from where I stand. Without a moment's hesitation, I pick up the pace, my boots echoing against the hard floor. Behind me, the others keep up, their footsteps a rhythmic thrum in this too-quiet place.
"Okay, okay, stop crying, I'm going to get you in a second," I whisper to the air, to the katana that calls to me, its voice a vibration in my bones.
Saxon's curiosity doesn't go unnoticed. "There are a couple of rooms, where is yours?" he asks, scanning the seemingly endless corridor.
I sigh, my fingers itching with the need to be reunited. "Mine is near the end," I admit, and with each step, the pull grows stronger, a magnetic draw that hastens my stride.
The first door is formidable, a ten-inch thick slab of uthium designed to break the deepest of bonds. My thumbprint is taken, and the door concedes to my identity. The second door awaits, and I don't flinch as I bite into my hand, letting my blood confirm who I am, letting another barrier fall away.
Saxon scratches his head, bewildered. "Just why are there so many doors? They're not needed," he mutters, but I understand their purpose all too well.
"You'll understand later when your connection to your artifacts grows," I respond, not unkindly. To others, these are just doors. To me, they're a rite of passage.
Draken seems to sense the gravity, his eyes shimmering with anticipation. "Damn, the suspense is real."
Finally, the last door. My gaze meets the iris scanner, and it blinks open. The center of the room holds what I've been yearning for, my katana, resting within a shattered glass case, the red blade a stark contrast to the room's blinding whiteness.
"Don't be impatient," I say, though I'm met with defiance as Itza cuts through its confines and settles into my grip. A red line races up my arm, a searing path that fades into my skin, finding its home in my eyes.
"Why are you always like this, Itza?" I ask, my voice a mix of exasperation and relief. The katana seems to pulse with life, an extension of my very being. It's been too long, but we're together again, finally. I promise not to accept missions in this city anymore. In return, please refrain from doing anything right now.