Sol exhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm as he watched the live feed from his spider drone. The Black Market was alive with movement, merchants haggling over stolen goods, smugglers whispering deals in shadowed corners, and enforcers patrolling in their usual lazy manner. But something was different tonight. A lingering tension crackled in the air, an unspoken understanding that the hunt was underway.
Sol adjusted his hood, tucking away any strands of hair that might stand out. He wasn't going to make the mistake of thinking he was safe, not with DreamCorp circling in closer with every passing hour. His fingers hovered over the interface as he rechecked his escape route, marking every alley and possible hiding spot.
Then, movement.
His spider picked up two figures near the entrance of Darik's hideout, their posture stiff, their conversation hushed. Sol frowned, enhancing the feed. They weren't locals. Too clean, too precise in their steps. DreamCorp scouts. He cursed under his breath.
"They're getting close," he muttered to himself.
He needed to move. Now.
Darik had promised him a way out, but that way was closing fast. Sol silently pulled his bag tighter around his shoulders, feeling the weight of the supplies pressing into him. His teacher's letters, the stolen data drive, the encrypted chip—it was all there. Everything he had left.
He stood from his cot and moved towards the door. As much as he trusted Darik, he couldn't afford to sit and wait. If DreamCorp breached the market before he was gone, he'd never make it out alive.
Taking a steadying breath, he stepped out into the corridor, the dim glow of neon lights flickering overhead. He was running out of time.
As Sol carefully mapped out his escape route, his focus was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Gru stood at the doorway, arms crossed, scowling as usual.
"Stop wasting time, slummer. Get up and follow me."
Sol narrowed his eyes but remained seated. His instincts screamed at him to be cautious. "Where are we going?"
Gru let out an irritated grunt. "Darik's already set up a backup hiding spot in case things go south. You think we're just waiting around to get caught?"
Sol blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected them to be this prepared. But the paranoia gnawing at his gut refused to settle. Every instinct screamed at him to stay sharp. He adjusted the strap on his bag, his fingers lingering over one of his concealed weapons before exhaling slowly and stepping forward. Trust was a luxury he didn't have.
As they descended deeper underground, the temperature dropped, a sharp contrast to the muggy warmth of the market above. The damp air clung to his skin, thick with the scent of mildew and rust. Water dripped from unseen cracks, each droplet echoing unnaturally in the confined space. The hum of the market above faded, replaced by an unsettling stillness.
Sol's enhanced senses twitched, picking up faint vibrations through the floor—subtle movements beyond their own. Distant voices. Slow, measured footsteps. Someone else was down here.
Then, a sudden knock.
It wasn't loud, but it was deliberate. Three short raps against metal, sharp against the oppressive silence of the tunnel.
Sol tensed, his body coiled like a spring. His pulse spiked, heart hammering against his ribs. His eyes flicked to Gru, searching for a reaction, but the goblin remained unfazed, muttering something under his breath. Was this part of the plan? Or had they been found?
A bead of sweat trickled down Sol's temple. The tunnel was suffocatingly dark, the air thick and damp. He strained his ears, picking up the faintest rustling from behind the metal door. Were those voices? Or was his mind playing tricks on him?
His fingers brushed against one of the small gadgets in his bag, instinct urging him to act. The weight of every wrong decision he'd made up to this point loomed over him. But Gru simply kept walking, his posture unchanged, as if the knock was nothing more than a passing breeze.
A muffled murmur seeped through the cracks in the walls, too distorted to make out. Sol swallowed hard, trying to push back the unease creeping up his spine.
Exhaling sharply, he forced himself to move. If this was a trap, he'd find out soon enough.?
His fingers brushed against one of the small gadgets in his bag, ready to act. But Gru simply kept walking, his face as unreadable as ever.
Exhaling sharply, Sol forced himself to move. If this was a trap, he'd find out soon enough.
They reached a small, rusted metal door—only a couple feet taller than Sol. Gru pulled it open, revealing a yawning abyss of pure darkness beyond. The air inside felt unnaturally still, thick with something unplaceable.
Sol hesitated. His instincts screamed at him again—don't go in.
Gru, however, didn't so much as pause. With an annoyed huff, he flicked on a small, flickering light, the dim glow barely pushing back against the void. He turned back to Sol, his expression impatient.
"Hurry up."
The door creaked as it shut behind them, sealing them in. As they moved forward, the darkness swallowed the last traces of light from behind them.
The corridor sloped downward, uneven stone giving way to rusted metal plating beneath their feet. Water dripped from overhead pipes, creating soft plinks that echoed unnervingly through the passage. Every few steps, Sol's boots splashed through unseen puddles, the cold seeping through his soles.
His grip tightened on his bag. His breath came in shallow bursts. He hated places like this—enclosed, silent, with too many unknowns.
"How much further?" Sol finally asked, keeping his voice low.
Gru didn't answer immediately. When he did, his tone was short. "Not much."
Sol frowned. Vague as ever.
His spiders were still out in the market, keeping watch, and his interface was running silent, feeding him occasional flickers of movement from above. DreamCorp was moving fast. Too fast. They were getting close.
Suddenly, Gru stopped.
Sol nearly bumped into him but caught himself just in time. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but before he could, Gru tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing toward the dark passage ahead.
Then Sol heard it.
A faint shuffle. A whisper of movement—too far to be an echo, too controlled to be background noise.
Sol instinctively reached for one of his tools, but Gru held up a hand. The goblin's expression was unreadable in the dim light, but his next words sent a shiver down Sol's spine.
"Not a word."
Sol's breath caught.
The tunnel stretched endlessly ahead, shadows shifting where the light failed to reach. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became—like they weren't just heading underground, but somewhere else entirely.
Somewhere they weren't supposed to be.
And something else was already there.