The Signal Tower was dead, but the Spire was waking up.
Zane and Wren sprinted through the pristine, white corridors of the lower maintenance sector.
Red emergency lights pulsed against the marble walls, turning the sterile city into a blood-coloured maze.
"They're sealing the sectors!" Wren shouted, checking a stolen datapad. "Bulkheads are closing. We have five minutes before we're trapped in the upper tier."
"We need the chutes," Zane said, his heavy boots cracking the floor tiles with every step. "The waste disposal lines. They dump directly into the Sump."
"That's suicide," Wren argued. "Those chutes lead to the Incinerators. If the furnaces are active, we'll be ash before we hit the ground."
"It's the only way," Zane said. "And I have a pick-up to make."
He turned a corner an
