The corridors beneath the floating city stretched on like the winding roots of some ancient, slumbering tree. They were narrow, damp, and filled with a faint hum that seemed to seep into one's very bones. Elias trudged after Mara and Darius, his steps heavy and his heart heavier still. The alarm blaring above echoed faintly here, like the distant cry of a bird warning of a hunter's approach.
Darius, ever the picture of careless composure, tilted his head as they walked. "Do you feel that?" he whispered.
"Feel what?" Elias muttered, though he already had a sinking suspicion.
"The city," Darius said, gesturing vaguely at the pipes and conduits lining the walls. "It's alive. Or at least, it wants you to think it is."
"Quiet," Mara interrupted before pressing on. "Save your convo for when we're not being hunted."
Seemed fair enough. Logical.
But, as of late, reality has been anything but really. Logic anything but logical.
Hence the faint glow of the corridor lights suddenly blurring Elias's vision, and for a fleeting moment, he wasn't in the dim, oppressive underbelly of the city anymore.
The sun? No, maybe.
He was back in a sunlit meadow, the kind of place that only exists in memories so distant they feel untouchable. He could hear her laugh—soft, warm, and utterly out of place in a world that had grown so cold.
"Mom," the younger version of him said. He was holding up a strange contraption made of wires and scrap metal, but his excitement refused to stop his hands from shaking.
The beautifully aged faces knelt beside him, and with a single brush at the hair lining his face, it was enough- a gentleness that made his chest ache even now. "What's this, genius?" she routinely teased. It had always been that way for as long as he could remember. Rather, as far as he chose to.
"It's... I don't know yet," he said sheepishly.
Her smile widened, though her eyes carried the weariness of too many sleepless nights. "Whatever it is, it's yours. And if I know anything, it's that you'll change the world one day, Elias. Now where's your sis-"
Not again.
The memory shattered as quickly as it had come, replaced by the sterile hum of the cold and emotionless corridor. Not for nothing, the warmth of her words was gone, leaving only the chill of the city, but the weight of it made everything worth it. He had to remember. He had to.
"Elias," Mara said sharply, glancing back at his distracted form. "Focus."
He blinked hard, nodding without a word. But the memory clung to him like a thorn, its presence both comforting and cruel.
It was long before the corridor opened into a small antechamber, dimly lit and cluttered with crates and discarded memory vials, too many to count. Even Mara stopped abruptly, scanning the room with sharp eyes.
"Through there," she said, pointing to a narrow passage on the far side of the chamber.
Elias hesitated. It wasn't his fault his gaze had a mind out its own, lingering on the shelves filled with glowing vials, each one pulsing faintly, each one a soft light that seemed almost alive. He reached out to touch one, hovering his fingers just above the glass.
"Don't," Mara snapped.
"What are these?"
"Memories," Mara said simply. "Taken, bottled, and forgotten."
Elias pulled his hand back. He glanced at Darius, who stood at the edge of the room with an unreadable expression.
"We gotta keep moving," Mara ordered, already heading for the passage.
Far above, in the heart of the floating city, Kael stood in a control room bathed in cold, blue light. His sharp eyes scanned a map of the lower levels, hands clasps behind his back.
"Sir, they're heading toward the restricted zones," one of his subordinates said nervously.
Kael didn't reply immediately. His gaze lingered on a blinking marker that indicated the memory storage room. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but there was nothing good beneath it.
"Seal the main exits," he said at last. "Force them toward the core."
The subordinate hesitated. "The core is unstable, sir. If they—"
"Do it," Kael interrupted, clearly aware of the dangerously possible consequential backfire of his decision. "And send a squad to intercept. I want them alive."
The passage was narrow, barely wide enough for them to walk single file. Worse, the ceilings were lined with conduits that vibrated softly, something that seemed to grow louder the deeper they went. It was as if the city itself was alive, whispering secrets too ancient to understand.
Mara led the way, her silence heavier than before. Elias followed closely, his thoughts churning with questions he wasn't sure he wanted answers to.
"What's your game, Mara?" he asked finally, but there was a shapness in his voice, sharper than he'd intended.
She glanced back at him, her expression calm but her eyes colder than he'd ever seen them. "This isn't a game."
"You know what I mean," Elias pressed. "Why are you doing this? What's your stake in all of this?"
Mara stopped, turning to face him fully. For a moment, the hum of the city was the only sound between them.
"I'm here because someone has to be," she said quietly. "And because if we don't stop this system, no one will."
Elias frowned, understanding now that they'd all been personally effected by the sift in geopolitical power much more than even they could remember, whether intentional or not, but before he could respond, Darius stepped between them.
"Save the heart-to-hearts for later," he said dryly. "We've got company."
The sound of boots echoed in the distance, and with every passing moment, it grew louder and louder. Mara cursed under her breath, motioning for them to move faster, like their lives depended on it.
Because they did.
They emerged into a larger chamber. Its walls were lined with massive turbines that hummed with energy. Mara led them toward a narrow bridge that spanned the room, the only visible path forward.
"Keep moving," she barked.
Elias hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing back at the dark corridor they'd just left. The memory of his mother's voice echoed in his mind. "Where is your sis-"
"Elias!" Mara snapped, pulling him back to the present.
He nodded, forcing his legs to move, even as the sound of pursuit grew louder behind them.
As they reached the far end of the bridge, the chamber filled with a harsh, metallic screech. Even worse, the door they'd entered through began to close, and Kael's voice echoed faintly through the chamber.
"End of the line," he said.