The base felt different in the early hours of the morning. The usual tension seemed to ease slightly, replaced by an almost eerie calm. Simon sat by one of the improvised fire pits, staring into the flickering flames. Around him, a few others were awake, speaking in hushed tones or tending to their weapons.
He leaned back against the cold metal of a train car, his mind wandering. He tried not to think about the surface, about the horrors waiting above. But the memories were relentless, surfacing with each flicker of light.
"Couldn't sleep?" Victor's voice cut through the quiet.
Simon looked up to see the older man approaching, a steaming cup in hand. He passed it to Simon, who took it gratefully.
"What is it?" Simon asked, peering into the cup.
"Some kind of tea," Victor replied, sitting down next to him. "Don't ask me what's in it."
Simon took a sip and grimaced. It was bitter, but it warmed him from the inside.
"Thanks," he said simply.
Victor nodded, staring into the fire. After a moment, he spoke.
"You've been quiet since yesterday," he said. "That thing you did… with the fire. Has it always been like that?"
Simon hesitated. "No," he admitted. "It started… after the Abyss came."
Victor's expression darkened. "The Abyss changes everything," he said. "People, places, even time itself. It's like the world's gone mad."
Simon nodded. He wanted to ask more but wasn't sure if he was ready to hear the answers. Instead, he changed the subject.
"What about you?" he asked. "You seem to know a lot about this place. About how things work down here."
Victor chuckled softly. "I've been around," he said. "Before this, I was a soldier. Then the Abyss came, and everything I knew became useless. Down here, you have to learn fast or die."
Simon studied Victor's face, noting the lines of exhaustion and the weight in his eyes.
"Do you miss it?" Simon asked.
Victor frowned. "What?"
"Your old life. Before all of this."
Victor was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"Every day," he admitted.
---
The day passed in a haze of activity. Simon helped where he could—carrying supplies, repairing what little equipment they had. He learned more about the people in the base, their stories, their struggles.
But beneath it all, he felt the same tension. The same unspoken fear.
As the sun set, the leaders of the base gathered in the central chamber. Simon found himself included, though he wasn't sure why.
Victor stood at the front, addressing the group.
"We can't stay here forever," he said. "The supplies are running out, and the Abyss is getting closer. We need to find another way."
Murmurs spread through the crowd. Some nodded in agreement, while others looked doubtful.
"And where do you suggest we go?" someone asked. "The surface is suicide."
"Not everywhere," Victor replied. "There are rumors of safe zones. Places where the Abyss hasn't reached yet. If we can find one—"
"If," someone interrupted. "And what if we don't? What if we're just walking into more death?"
Victor didn't flinch. "Then we die trying," he said simply. "Because staying here is no longer an option."
The room fell silent. Simon felt the weight of their decision pressing down on him.