Souls Below - Rebellion

Chapter Twenty-One.

The low hum of the city vibrated through the walls around us, a distant reminder of the world continuing outside. I sat on the edge of a crate, fingers twisting anxiously in my lap, eyes locked on the open doorway.

Krane hadn’t stopped when we’d arrived—he’d dropped my bag by the wall without a word and stormed down the corridor, his long strides stiff with fury, back straight, fists clenched. He hadn’t even looked at me.

He was so angry.

Calian and I hadn’t spoken since. I watched him silently from across the room as he pulled up the hem of his shirt to check the wound at his side. The gash had already begun to scab, pale pink skin knitting together faster than I’d expected.

‘Do Uppers heal quicker than us?’

My cheeks flushed as my gaze lingered too long, taking in the lean definition of his torso, the way his muscles shifted beneath his skin. I snapped my eyes to the ceiling, heat rising up my neck. That stupid fluttery feeling stirred in my stomach again, unwelcome and out of place.

“So… what happened?” Calian’s voice broke the silence gently, like he wasn’t sure if I’d snap at him. Part of me wanted to, after all, it was his fault I’d been out past curfew. But the other part… that part knew it was my own damn fault too—for being careless. For being selfish.

I glanced at him, relieved to see his shirt now tugged back into place. My shoulders relaxed a little.

“I missed the curfew whistle,” I answered, voice low. “Was talkin’ to you. If I’d realized how late it was, I would’ve taken a different route home. Or not gone out at all.” I shook my head, frustration bubbling. “I shouldn’t have been out at all.”

“What happens if you get ID’d?” The question hit harder than I expected. I stared at my hands, still fidgeting.

“For most Lowers with ID?” I shrugged. “A warning. Maybe a beatin’ if the guards are in a mood.” Calian frowned, and I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “For me?” My voice came out cold as I let out a small chuckle. “If I get caught, I can only hope my death is quick.”

He jerked upright, shock flashing across his face. “They execute you—for being out after curfew?”

“Only if you’ve got no number. No papers. Or both.” The silence between us thickened as he processed the truth of my words. I could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes. “I guess,” I continued dryly, pulling my legs beneath me on the crate, “with the way things are goin’, one of us might not make it through the week. So… I might as well tell someone from up top.”

I looked over at him. He was listening now—really listening.

“You want to know what it’s like down here? Just surviving is a fight. That attack you mentioned? The one from years ago? That’s where Jerard found me—wandering, bloody, scared out of my mind. No ID number. No name…. no past.” Calian’s eyes widened. His reaction—it was real. I wondered just how much the Uppers didn’t know.

“You mean… you don’t know why you don’t have an ID?”

I nodded. “Jerard thinks my parents hid me at birth. That’s the only way to stay off the system. But it also means I never got registered, never got my number.”

“What happens if you don’t have one?” I looked away.

“You can’t work. No work means no meal stubs. Can’t get a home, which means no address card for the ration line, You starve. You can’t get married, can’t have kids, can’t even leave your sector. It’s like being alive, but invisible.

He ran a hand through his hair, stunned. “But… you’ve survived.”

I gave a small nod. “Jerard found a way. Got me into a job that doesn’t check IDs. He keeps me safe.” I hesitated. “He’s like a father to me.” Calian looked down now, guilt shifting in his posture. I noticed the faintest color rise in his cheeks, not unlike the way Krane looked when he was flustered—only this was different. Calian was… quieter. More unsure.

“I thought about going back,” he admitted after a pause. “I got as far as the tunnel I used to get down here.”

My head tilted slightly, interest piqued. “There’s a tunnel?”

He nodded, eyes distant. “Yeah. But something stopped me. A gut feeling. The further away I got, the more intense it became. I turned around, convinced myself I was being paranoid, but better safe than sorry. When I got near the entrance, I saw the door had been left open. And I knew—somehow—I knew it was you who’d gone through.”

I blinked. “How would you know that? We’d barely even spoken.”

He gave me a sheepish smile. “This’ll sound ridiculous, and probably really corny, but… it feels like we’ve met before. In another life or something. I can’t explain it, Mira.” His voice dropped. “I just—I feel drawn to you.” My chest tightened, the heat returning to my cheeks. I opened my mouth to reply, to explain I had a similar feeling when I noticed the sound too late.

Bootsteps, Heavy and easy to identify. I scrambled off the crate just as a massive figure filled the doorway. Jerard. His arms were folded, shoulders square, expression unreadable—but his eyes…

His eyes were blazing.

“Jerard,” I breathed, voice trembling. Calian stood quickly, alarm radiating off him in waves. He looked like a cornered animal. Jerard didn’t move, he just swept his gaze from Calian to me, then back again.

“Well,” he spoke finally, voice like distant thunder. “This explains a lot.”

~*~

Krane stood outside the room, leaning against the far wall. His arms were crossed, jaw tight, and his face unreadable—except for the twitch at the corner of his mouth, a silent flare of the anger he still carried. I couldn’t meet his eyes. Not after what I’d done.

Inside, Jerard’s sharp gaze bounced between Calian and me, his shoulders already tense. The room felt small, the air charged.

“Now your sudden shift in responsibility and carelessness makes sense,” Jerard growled. His voice was low, laced with accusation. I flinched, guilt crackling like static across my skin. I dipped my head, shame coiling tightly in my chest.

“What were you thinking, Mira? Is your curiosity so damn great danger is invisible to you?” I opened my mouth to speak—maybe to defend myself, maybe to apologize—but nothing came out. His words stung because they were true.

Jerard turned his attention to Calian, his tone colder now. “State your House, boy. And don’t lie. I have a nose for liars.” The shift in his demeanor caught me off guard. Jerard was always informed—he kept tabs on Upper politics like his life depended on it—but the intensity in his posture now was different. Sharper. Calian glanced at me, weighing his chances, then drew a breath.

“Calian Arlen, of House Evrain. Firstborn.” Jerard went still. His eyes widened for the briefest second before narrowing into a glare.

“You should not have come.” The air in the room turned volatile. Even Krane straightened, alert now. But Calian didn’t shrink—he stood taller, defiant, his shoulders squared in challenge. A shift in demenour I hadn’t expected, but it was striking in it’s own way.

“You know who I am,” he spoke evenly. “Which means you understand why I’m here.” I blinked, glancing between them. What were they talking about?

Jerard scoffed. “You believe after four years she’s still alive?”

“Is she not?” Calian shot back, voice rising with emotion.

“We searched for days in the rubble. Do you think if she’d been found, the Lowers would’ve passed up the reward?” Jerard’s tone dripped with bitterness. I looked to Krane for answers, but he only scowled deeper, his anger simmering alongside Jerard’s.

‘What the hell was going on?’

“It’s hard to believe your kind would even know what she looked like,” Calian spat. “You’ve abandoned your duties and refused to be part of the society you helped build.” Jerard surged forward a step. Calian stepped back instinctively, the spark of confidence in his voice faltering. Krane moved too, but Jerard held up a hand, stopping him.

“You’re naive, boy. Blind to what this city’s become. And since it isn’t your city, you can’t begin to understand what’s happened here.” My head snapped to Jerard—he knew about the other cities?

Calian scoffed. “You lump all Uppers together like we’re the same. And yes, I’m not from your Upper City, that much is clear. And if this is what’s become of the Lower districts in Estel, then clearly someone’s been steering things in the wrong direction.” My head spun. The way they spoke—like they knew things I didn’t—left me reeling.

“And yet you’re here playing hero instead of doing something real about it,” Jerard snapped. “Why didn’t you leave when you realized she was gone?” The tone changed. Realization dawned on me, they were talking about her—the girl Calian had come looking for. Theia. Calian’s posture softened, his eyes flicked to me briefly, and I felt my cheeks warm, my stomach twist in that confusing, infuriating way again.

“I was leaving,” he admitted quietly. “After accepting she may have died in the collapse four years ago, I tried to move on. I even reached the tunnel I came through. But… something pulled me back. The further I walked, the worse the feeling grew. And if I hadn’t returned—what happened in the agriculture sector could have ended much worse.” Jerard turned sharply, this time facing Krane. The sudden movement made all of us jump.

“You entered the restricted sector?” he barked. Krane flinched, caught off-guard, glaring at Calian for outing him. “You told me you were showing her the tunnels. Nothing more!”

“Jerard—” I started, but he rounded on me, his eyes burning.

“You know it’s forbidden!” His voice was like thunder, echoing off the walls and slicing straight through me. “You can be executed on the spot for stepping foot in that place, Amira!”

“I’m breaking rules just by existing here!” I snapped, my voice shaking. “I can’t even sneeze without risking a Guard’s baton across the damn ribs!”

Jerard threw his hands up, exasperated. “So that justifies entering a district sealed off because of a biohazard outbreak that killed dozens of people?”

“But there were no bodies!” I shouted. His expression faltered.

Jerard blinked at me. “What?”

“We walked the halls. There were no bodies. And…” I looked to Krane, who remained stone-faced. “There was green, Jerard” I whispered. Jerard ran a hand over his face, sighing. I expected confusion, disbelief. Surprise even. Instead, he looked weary, like he already knew.

“Have you never seen plants?” Calian asked, incredulous.

Krane’s barked laughter was bitter. “We live under a tomb of concrete and steel, dipshit. Have you seen anything green in the last two weeks of bein’ here?”

“This would be the only Lower district without biomass or growth as part of life-support,” Calian muttered. “So excuse me for assuming otherwise.”

Krane rolled his eyes. “What the f**k are you even saying?”

“Enough!” Jerard’s voice cracked through the room like a whip. He turned to Calian. “What did you see?”

Calian hesitated. “Heard, mostly. But whatever was in there—it wasn’t human.” I felt my mouth go dry. I could still hear the creature’s screech, see its shape hurling toward the closing door.

Jerard studied Calian for a moment, then turned to Krane. “Tell Strem to search for the Bypass Tunnel. He’ll understand.”

Krane’s eyes widened. “You’re letting him go?” His anger surprised me. Why was he so invested in keeping Calian locked up?

“You don’t get to decide what happens here,” Jerard retorted, voice tired. “If we’re going to fix what’s broken down here, we need help—from someone outside the system.”

Krane scoffed. “All Uppers are the same.” His gaze burned into Calian. “Selfish, cowardly, arrogant. Always taking what isn’t theirs, and destroyed what little good we had.” He turned without another word, pausing just long enough to glance at me. Something in his eyes cracked, but it vanished before I could place it. Then he was gone, his footsteps fading into the hall.

Jerard exhaled heavily. “You’ll stay in my office,” he told Calian. “You won’t leave. You won’t look for your friend. You’ll follow my rules—or you won’t leave at all. Understood?” A long pause passed between them before Calian nodded. He had no other choice. Jerard rubbed his face like the weight of the entire Lower City had collapsed on his shoulders.

“And you, young lady.” His voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. I met his eyes. “You’d do well to remember where you’re supposed to be. I’ve pulled every string I can, I convinced the guards you were no threat—but next time, they may not listen.” I nodded, guilt twisting inside me. I thought of Krane’s face. His silence. His hurt. Jerard’s next question broke the quiet.

“Where’s the P.I.P. card?” My heart dropped. I glanced at Calian

‘Would he tell?’

He didn’t speak, just turned to lock eyes with mine. That hesitation felt like a slap. I glared at the Upper a moment as Jerard turned his attention to me. I reached down, yanked the bag to my lap, and pulled the card free, slapping it into Jerard’s hand.

“This will be destroyed,” he stated firmly. “I will not have you risking your lives for another thrill. That district is sealed for a reason.” I glared at the man who’d raised me for the last four years. The man who saved me, protected me—but never let me live.

“Maybe if I wasn’t treated like a child,” I spat, “I wouldn’t feel the need to go looking for answers in forbidden places.” Jerard didn’t respond. Just stared at me for a long moment, then turned and left the room.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Anger flared and faded in the same instant. I turned, not even checking to see if Calian followed, and stalked out after Jerard, the weight of everything unsaid clinging to me like smoke.