The air in the undercity was thick with a damp, metallic tang, the kind that clung to your skin and made you wonder if you were breathing more rust than oxygen. Zane Kael moved through the winding alleys like a shadow, his footsteps muffled by the grime-caked metal plates beneath him. The neon glow from the towering upper city above seeped through the cracks, painting jagged streaks of pinks and greens across the crumbling walls.
"Seven credits for a week's haul," Zane muttered, tightening his grip on the tattered bag slung over his shoulder. It was filled with broken circuit boards and salvaged drone parts—scraps no one in the Lumina above would even look at, but in the Dregs, they were gold. "Barely enough for synth-food."
His destination was a dilapidated workshop, tucked between two skyscrapers so old their names had been sandblasted into anonymity by time. Inside, he knew Elias would be waiting, the old man as much a relic as the junk he bought from scavengers like Zane.
The hum of an approaching drone made Zane freeze mid-step. He ducked into the shadows of a narrow alcove, as the machine zipped past, its glowing red sensor sweeping the street. It was one of Eidolon's surveillance bots, always watching, always listening. They rarely came this deep into the undercity, but when they did, trouble usually followed.
Once the drone vanished around a corner, Zane exhaled and slipped out of hiding. "Damn bots…" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
A few more turns and he reached the workshop. The neon sign above the door flickered erratically, spelling out "Elias' Emporium" in mismatched colors. Pushing the creaking door open, Zane was greeted by the familiar clutter of wires, broken screens, and half-assembled gadgets.
"You're late," Elias grumbled from behind a counter, not looking up from the mess of wires he was soldering together. His hair was a wild tangle of silver, and his cybernetic arm whirred softly as he worked. "I've got another buyer coming soon. Let's see what you've got."
Zane dumped the bag on the counter, its contents spilling out with a clatter. Elias sifted through the haul with a critical eye, his fingers pausing on a particular piece—a small, palm-sized device that looked far too pristine to have been pulled from the undercity's ruins.
"What's this?" Elias asked, holding it up to the dim light.
"Just something I found near the old transit hub," Zane replied, shrugging. "Thought it looked interesting."
Elias frowned, his brow furrowing as he turned the device over. Its surface was smooth, black, and unmarked, save for a faintly glowing symbol etched into the center—a circle divided into four quadrants.
"This isn't just junk," Elias said, his voice low. "You shouldn't have brought this here."
"What do you mean?" Zane asked, leaning closer. "It's just a—"
Before he could finish, the workshop's door burst open with a deafening crash. Two figures stepped inside, clad in sleek black armor with the unmistakable insignia of The Obscura emblazoned on their chests. Their faces were hidden behind opaque visors, but the weapons they carried needed no introduction—high-powered energy rifles, capable of turning anyone into a smoldering heap in seconds.
"The device," one of them barked, their voice modulated and cold. "Hand it over."
Elias moved faster than Zane thought possible for someone his age. With a single fluid motion, he tossed the device to Zane. "Run!" he shouted, slamming a hidden switch under the counter. The room filled with blinding light as smoke began to pour from hidden vents.
Zane didn't need to be told twice. Clutching the device, he bolted out the back door into the maze-like alleys of the undercity. His heart pounded as the sounds of pursuit echoed behind him—heavy boots, shouting, and the unmistakable hum of a charging energy weapon.
As he ran, the device in his hand grew warm, almost as if it were alive. Then, a voice—soft, mechanical, yet unmistakably sentient—whispered in his mind.
"Connection established. Protocol initiated."
"What the—?" Zane stumbled but kept running, his grip tightening on the mysterious object. Whatever this thing was, it had just turned his precarious life upside down.
Zane's breath burned in his lungs as he tore through the narrow alleys, each turn feeling like a gamble with his life. The echoes of the Obscura agents' boots were relentless, closing in faster than he'd anticipated. The device in his hand pulsed again, its faint glow now visible even through his clenched fist.
"Connection established. Neural Resonance detected," the voice repeated, clearer this time.
"Neural what?" Zane hissed under his breath, his eyes darting around for an escape route. He vaulted over a rusted barricade and ducked into a maintenance tunnel. The stench of oil and decay was overwhelming, but it didn't matter—he needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Obscura.
The sound of the agents' pursuit grew fainter as he ran deeper into the tunnel. Zane slowed to a jog, his pulse still racing. He pressed his back against the damp, metal wall, trying to calm his breathing. The glowing device in his hand flickered, and a faint image appeared above it—a hologram of a map, with a single red dot blinking near the center.
"What… is this thing?" he whispered, staring at the projection. It wasn't like any tech he'd seen before, and he'd scavenged through half the ruins of Cipher City.
Before he could think further, a sharp metallic clang echoed down the tunnel. Zane's stomach dropped. They were still after him.
The voice in his head returned, more insistent this time. "Turn left at the next junction. Continue for 50 meters. Exit available."
"You're kidding me," Zane muttered, but he had no other choice. Pushing off the wall, he sprinted down the corridor, following the voice's instructions. The tunnel twisted and turned, and he wasn't entirely sure if he was running deeper into trouble, but the map projection above the device adjusted with every step, guiding him like a beacon.
He skidded around the final corner and saw the exit—a rusty ladder leading up to a hatch. Without hesitation, Zane grabbed the rungs and climbed, ignoring the ache in his arms. The hatch groaned as he pushed it open, revealing a rooftop bathed in the eerie glow of the upper city's neon lights.
Zane hauled himself onto the roof and slammed the hatch shut behind him, bracing it with a loose metal beam. He collapsed onto his back, gasping for air, his mind racing to make sense of what had just happened.
A faint hum brought him back to his senses. The device was still glowing, its holographic map now replaced with a single line of text:
"Escape protocol successful. Directive: Decode."
"Decode what?" Zane asked aloud, glaring at the device as if it would answer. Instead, the glow dimmed, and the projection disappeared entirely, leaving him in silence.
The rooftop gave him a brief reprieve, but he knew it wouldn't last. The Obscura didn't give up easily, especially not when it came to something this valuable. He stared out over the sprawling cityscape, its towering spires and flickering lights a stark contrast to the grime of the undercity below. Somewhere out there was Elias's shop, now likely a smoking ruin.
Guilt twisted in Zane's chest. The old man had risked everything for him, and for what? A device Zane barely understood? A voice in his head that spoke in riddles?
The sound of approaching drones snapped him out of his thoughts. Red sensor lights flickered in the distance, growing closer. They must have tracked his heat signature through the hatch.
"No rest for the wicked," Zane muttered, forcing himself to his feet. He scanned the rooftop for an escape route and spotted a series of pipes leading down to a neighboring building.
As he climbed down, the device hummed faintly again. The voice returned, calm and precise.
"They will not stop. Decode the Cipher Core to neutralize pursuit."
"Easier said than done," Zane grumbled, landing on the adjacent rooftop. The building was abandoned, its windows shattered and its walls covered in faded graffiti. He slipped inside through a broken pane, crouching in the shadows as the drones hovered overhead.
Inside, the air was cool and still, the faint hum of the city muffled by layers of concrete and steel. Zane found a corner to sit in and examined the device more closely. It looked deceptively simple—smooth black metal with no visible seams or controls, save for the glowing quadrant symbol in the center.
"What are you?" he asked, half-expecting an answer.
The device pulsed once, and a new hologram appeared. This time, it was a series of complex symbols and equations, rotating slowly in midair. Zane recognized none of it, but the voice offered a cryptic explanation:
"Cipher Core: Key to the Forgotten Code. Decoding will restore balance."
"Restore balance? You're gonna have to do better than that," Zane said, his frustration mounting. "Why are they after you? What does Eidolon want with this thing?"
The device remained silent, its hologram flickering faintly. Zane sighed, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. Whatever he'd stumbled into, it was bigger than anything he'd dealt with before. Bigger than scrap runs and survival. Bigger than the Dregs themselves.
And if Elias was right, it might just cost him everything.
As the drones moved on, Zane's exhaustion caught up with him. He leaned back against the wall, the Cipher Core still clutched in his hand. Sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford, but his body had other ideas.
His eyes drifted shut, and for the first time in years, Zane dreamed.
He saw flashes of a city unlike anything he'd ever known—spires of glass and steel, illuminated by an artificial sun. A man stood at the center, his face obscured, his hand outstretched toward Zane.
"Decode the truth," the man said, his voice both familiar and foreign. "The future depends on it."
Zane woke with a start, his heart pounding. The Cipher Core was glowing brighter than ever, its light casting long shadows across the room.
Whatever this was, it wasn't over. It was only the beginning.