Souls Below - Rebellion

Chapter Thirty-Six

Anton stood beside his sister in the sterile glow of her lab, the air thick with the hum of machinery and unspoken questions. The screen before them pulsed with data—lines of code, blood markers, genetic flags flashing in a pattern he didn’t yet understand, but she did. Loila didn’t speak. She just watched him, her arms folded tightly, waiting for the moment it would all register.

He blinked once. Twice. Turned, paced to the far wall, then came back to stare at the screen again, as if proximity might somehow change the result.

“How accurate is this?” His voice was calm but taut, like a wire drawn tight between two towers. Loila gave him a long look.

“I’m insulted you’d even ask.” He didn’t blink. She sighed. “I’m 99.99% certain. And that’s me being humble.” Anton’s eyes didn’t move from the screen.

“Then what did you mean when you said they could be listening?”

“Still the loyal dog.” Loila rolled her eyes with a sharp exhale. “Every call is routed through the monitoring systems. Every room—aside from the restrooms—is rigged with audio and voice sensors. The AI listens for flagged terms and sends alerts directly to Haarken and his pet vulture, Natalie.”

“And this lab isn’t tapped?” She lifted a brow and gestured toward her lab technician across the room. The woman smirked faintly.

“I sometimes wonder if I got all the brains when we split cells,” Loila muttered. Anton shot her a look. “I rerouted the audio feeds to a disused lab across the city,” she continued with a shrug. “The video loops every few hours. Imperfect enough to avoid suspicion, perfect enough to fool their systems. If Haarken wants to spy on me, he’ll have to come down here himself.”

She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “So, what are you going to do, Commander? Because this isn’t just another Lower mystery. This could burn the whole damn city.” Anton’s throat felt dry.

“Walking away means breaking my oath. I don’t plan on doing that. Neither should you.” Loila shook her head.

“You still think this is about duty?”

“This won’t be enough to convince the other Houses,” he answered, ignoring her jab. “What do I need?” She pushed off the counter.

“Alive and kicking would be ideal.” He gave her a hard stare. “I need more samples. Confirmations. I can’t build a case off one anomaly, even if that anomaly screams everything we’ve been told is a lie.” Anton’s device chirped. A message flashed across his wrist screen. He scanned it, lips tightening.

“Haarken wants me in the restricted sector. Rebels have reportedly breached the barrier. I’m to assist in their elimination.” He paused. “He’s sending one of his Elites with me.” Loila’s face drained of color. “What?” he asked, voice suddenly cold.

“There’s something about that sector,” she began, her voice low. “Something I found years ago. I didn’t know what it meant until recently. And I think there’s something he isn’t telling you about those rebels.”

Anton’s stomach twisted. He’d known, on some level, that Haarken was keeping things from him, he wouldn’t be the Director of Estel, and right hand man to the Crown, if he told his plans to everyone. But knowing wasn’t the same as proving.

“I don’t have time for this,” he stated, turning. Loila stepped into his path, eyes fierce.

“You don’t get to walk away this time brother. This is bigger than either of us, and it’s the reason I’ve kept my distance.” His eyes narrowed.

“We don’t keep secrets, Loila.”

“We did this time.” Her voice was small. “And it’s why we haven’t been close recently.” The truth in her words hit harder than he expected. They were twins, bonded by blood and memory, a one in a thousand chance of happening. Drifting apart hadn’t made sense—until now.

“Talk,” he ordered.

~*~

Our footsteps echoed like gunshots down the long, dark hallway, each beat ricocheting off the walls and fraying the last threads of my nerves. I half-expected the shriek of one of those creatures to erupt at any moment. When Calian’s shoulder brushed mine, I flinched. He gave me a reassuring smile, one that said, You’re safe.

I must’ve looked like a terrified child—wide-eyed and jittery—but after nearly dying in this place, something inside me had cracked and never quite settled.

We had long since moved past the room with the green, my eyes lingering in awe and longing. Further in we passed more doors—some bent in half, others barely hanging on their hinges. Claw marks scored the surfaces, the damage unreadable in intent.

‘Were they trying to get in… or out?’

Corridors branched off in all directions like broken limbs. Braken, however, kept a steady path forward, pausing only to scan each hallway before pressing on. How did he know where he was going? The layout felt like a labyrinth, and the signs were useless—faded, scratched, or ripped off completely.

My hand occasionally brushed the dagger at my side. Just the feel of the hilt grounded me, though I doubted it would do much if those things came crawling from the dark.

I stuck close to Krane, our shoulders brushing when he slowed. He squeezed my arm lightly, a quiet ‘I’m here.’ The blackness that pooled in every branching corridor felt alive, watching. Waiting. I kept glancing behind us, half-expecting to see one of them crawling along the floor. Calian, bringing up the rear, gave me a tense smile. Rigid posture, eyes scanning. He felt it too.

As we neared a wide metal door, slightly ajar but devoid of power, Braken called out and gestured to Krane and Calian. Together, they tried to force it open. Grunts of effort echoed in the silence, metal groaning. But the door wouldn’t budge—rust, grime, and time having welded it in place.

“Without power, we won’t get through,” Krane muttered, rubbing his forehead with a grimace. Braken kicked the door in frustration.

“It’s the only entrance into this sector. A choke point in the event of breach—one door in, one out. The other side leads to the agricultural sector.” Exhaustion crashed over me. We’d been walking for hours, and now we might have to go back?

“We could grab tools, pry it open,” Krane offered, voice clipped.

“With guards crawling the streets? Brilliant idea, truly. Why don’t we paint a target on our backs too?” Calian shot back, sarcasm dripping. Krane rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t realize you packed your silver spoon instead of a spine.”

“At least I don’t solve every problem by punching it,” Calian snapped. “What’s your plan, hit the door harder?” While they argued, I examined the area closer. Deep gouges lined the walls and floors near the door, some with splinters of claw still embedded. My stomach churned—these things had desperately tried to get in.

I stepped toward the door, blocking out the bickering, pressing my torch to the c***k. The light was swallowed instantly, revealing only glints of broken glass scattered across the room beyond.

I stepped back and looked around, my torch searching the wall above the door. My eyes fell on an opening—a jagged hole torn into the ducting grate, just above the door and to the right, ripped wide open. Dark stains crusted the edges, and bits of dried skin clung to the metal. My heart lurched—What was inside that room worth bleeding for?

“Guys,” I called, still staring. They didn’t hear me, their voices had risen, each one trying to out-shout the other. “Guys,” I tried again, louder. Nothing. The hairs on my arms lifted. ‘Shut up,’ I wanted to scream. If those things were near—

“Your opinion doesn’t matter, Upper,” Krane snapped. “You’re just here to take notes for your people above. Try not to get your silk sleeves dirty.”

“And you’re just here to punch shadows and hope it solves your daddy issues,” Calian shot back. Braken groaned.

“Makers, I’m surrounded by children. I should’ve brought a leash instead. I brought Amira to find the truth—not babysit two testosterone-fueled idiots”

“Coming from the guy who looks like he eats nails for breakfast and lives in a sewer,” Calian retorted.

“I do live in a sewer, and I’m still smarter than both of you combined. Watching you two squabble is like watching the last two brain cells fight for third place,” Braken sneered.

“For a rebel leader, you act like a sulking child,” Krane added. “What’s the plan, brood them to death?”

“Better than sulking over your unrequited love, and throwing punches every time your ego gets poked,” Braken sniffed. Krane stepped forward.

“Say that again.”

“Don’t tempt me, street rat,” Braken growled.

“HEY!” My voice cracked like a whip as I swung the torch toward Krane’s face. They all froze, turning to me. “Would you all just shut the f**k up? Are you all done measuring d***s? Because one of us might die while you’re too busy with your egos!”

Krane’s face flushed red. Calian opened his mouth, then shut it. I turned to Braken. “What happens if one of us gets in?”

“There’s a lever near the entrance panel. Manual override in case of a power cut,” he replied evenly. Krane frowned, eyes flicking toward me. I turned the torch to the hole in the wall. All three followed my gaze—and visibly paled.

“Does this lead inside?” I asked.

“Yes— "

“No way you’re going in alone,” Krane interrupted sharply. “We don’t know what’s in there. Those things could still be waiting. You’d be trapped and we couldn’t help.”

A spike of fear punched through my ribs, gripping my lungs tightly. I imagined crawling through that tunnel, trapped, no way to turn back if something lunged. I couldn’t even lift my dagger properly in there. My breath hitched, too fast, too shallow.

Panic filled my chest, refusing to let me breathe.

Calian stepped in close—closer than I’d noticed, and slipped a hand beneath my chin, tilting my gaze up to his. His thumb gently brushed just below my lip, drawing me out of the spiral.

“You’re safe, Mira,” he murmured, voice steady and warm. “If those things were inside, the hole would be bigger, and the door would’ve been torn from both sides.”

My breath started to slow, fear releasing its grip on my lungs. My heart didn’t, but the weight pressing on my chest eased a little.

“If it’s too much,” Calian continued, “you come back. We’ll find another way. One step at a time.” He leaned in, pressing his lips gently to my forehead. The tension in my spine unraveled, if only for a moment. “You climb through pipes smaller than this every day. You got this.” he added with a soft smile.

He was right. This was nothing compared to the pipework in the Makers sector. I gave a small, tight nod and looked up at the hole again.

“Is there a ladder or something I can use to reach it?” I asked, scanning the area.

“I’ll help.” Krane stepped forward. His jaw tight, and voice tighter. “Like when we climbed the walls near the restricted zone.”

I smirked. “Oh yeah. When you launched me over a ten-foot gate.” Krane crouched, back pressed to the wall, interlacing his fingers into a step and resting them on his knee. His eyes met Calian’s as he muttered.

“You wouldn’t know how to do this, Upper. It involves getting dirty.”

Calian scoffed. “You think I’m clean right now?”

“Honestly, I’m wondering if it’s smart to leave you three alone,” I sighed, dropping my pack. Krane grinned.

“I kept your pet alive while Rebel Man here dragged you off, didn’t I?”

“Pet?!” Calian barked.

“Rebel Man?!” Braken looked offended. “She wasn’t—” Krane waved him off.

“We’ll be fine.” I narrowed my eyes at him, biting back a laugh.

“Ready?” I asked, slipping the torch between my teeth— I was about to endure a signifcant amount of pain. Krane nodded.

I sprinted forward, stepping into his hands. He boosted me effortlessly toward the grate, and I scrambled through the opening, arm catching on a sharp edge. Pain sliced through my ribs and side from the jarring move, stealing the breath from my lungs. I clenched my jaw, torch muffling the cry.

Crawling into the tunnel, I paused, heart hammering, side on fire, the blood pounding in my ears pulsing in time with the pain from my wounds. The metal walls warped the light strangely as I struggled to suck in air. Every creak beneath me was deafening, the usual city hums practically absent.

“Mira, you okay?” Krane called softly.

I waited, breath shallow. Listening “I’m okay!” I called back. The sigh of relief echoed behind me.

I shuffled forward, clenching my teeth against the pain until I reached the far end where the grate was intact. Which meant the creatures hadn’t made it through.

Running my fingers along the edge, I found the release latches—same design as the city pipes. I pulled them apart, internally cheering as the faint ‘tick’ sounded, before swinging open with a loud screech. Quickly scanning the room, I half-dropped, half-tumbled down with a thud, torchlight dancing off broken glass and overturned equipment.

Something felt wrong. The air was too still. The shadows too thick.

“There’s a panel to the right,” Braken called from the door. “Chest height. Use your knife to get it open.” Quickly latching the grate back into place, I found the panel and pried it open. The bang echoed through the empty room, my hands trembling.

“Now what?” I called. No response. I moved to peer through the c***k in the door—Krane and Calian were arguing again.

“Guys! We don’t have—” I started. Braken stepped into view.

“Red lever. Turn it all the way.” He instructed, voice now tight. I turned back and grabbed the lever. It didn’t move.

“It’s stuck,” I called, panic spiking. Again no response, “Braken—”

“Hit it. With your knife. Hurry, Amira!” His tone made my blood run cold, gut twisting. Then I heard it—

The shrill, piercing screams of the creatures. Terror surged through my body. I slammed the hilt against the lever, the impact jarring my arm, but it didn’t budge. I struck again with more force and my knife slipped, blade biting deep into my palm.

I hissed in agony, dropping it, knife clattering to the ground as blood dripped to the floor, my vision blurring. Gritting my teeth I quickly scanned the area and spied a metal tube within arm’s reach. Picking it up I smashed the lever again, and again. Krane’s voice— muffled and urgent— called out.

“Hurry, Mira. Hurry.” Tears blurred my vision as I swung again, imagining Krane’s bloodied body, imagining them dying because I was too weak.

I gritted my teeth, raised the pipe—

And struck again.