CHAPTER TWO
708 Words
Kieran hit the ground rolling. Behind him, the transit platform was tearing itself apart, metal shrieking as the Sentinels pushed through the wreckage. The world spun, a sick, dizzying slide that left him gasping for air.
"Move!" Lyra yelled, her voice cutting through the ringing in his ears.
He scrambled up, his boots slipping on the polished floor. He didn't look back. He didn't need to. He knew the Sentinels weren't running. They just glided forward with that steady, terrifying rhythm, already predicting his path before he took a step.
"Left!" Lyra barked. She slammed her shoulder into a grime-streaked maintenance panel. The metal groaned and gave way. Kieran dove in right behind her.
The door slammed shut, plunging them into absolute dark. Kieran leaned back against the cold steel, hacking in breaths. A second later, a single, flickering yellow strip light buzzed on.
"What are they?" he choked out, clutching his side.
Lyra ignored him. She had her ear pressed flat against the door.
"They're too fast," she muttered.
Boom. The metal door bowed inward under a massive impact. Dust rained down on their shoulders.
"Sentinels," Lyra finally said, her voice tight. "They're clean-up. We're the mess." She grabbed his jacket. "Run."
They sprinted blindly through the maintenance tunnels, boots splashing in stagnant puddles. The air smelled of old copper and burnt ozone. Behind them, the rhythmic thud-thud-thud never slowed.
"They're catching up," Kieran gasped.
Lyra didn't answer. She pulled a flat disc from her pocket and slapped it hard onto the concrete wall as they ran past.
The EMP blew out the tunnel with a blinding white flash. The shockwave hit Kieran's chest like a physical punch, knocking the wind out of him. The sharp scent of fried wiring filled the corridor.
They rounded a corner and slammed to a stop. A solid steel bulkhead. A dead end.
Lyra pressed her bare hand against the metal. Faint blue light bled from her skin, tracing lines across the steel. The bulkhead didn't open—it simply dissolved, panel by panel.
"Welcome to the Rot," she said, stepping through.
It looked like a junkyard for high-end tech. Towers of salvaged servers hummed in the dark, cables snaking across the floor like vines. Dozens of people huddled over glowing screens. As Kieran stepped in, the typing stopped. Every head turned to stare at them.
"We have a problem," Lyra called out.
A man stepped down from a raised platform in the center. He looked worn out, his gray hair a mess, his eyes shadowed by lack of sleep.
"Bring him here," the man said.
"Who are you?" Kieran asked, taking a step back.
"Soren Hale. I helped build the cage you just broke out of." Hale's eyes darted to the metal shard clutched tightly in Kieran’s fist. "And you have something that belongs in the Vault."
Before Kieran could demand an answer, the floor vibrated. A deep, grinding hum echoed from the tunnel they’d just escaped.
"They're here to take it back, Kieran," Hale said, stepping right into his personal space. "They want the memories. The ones you hid."
Hale reached out and tapped the shard. Kieran’s vision shattered.
He was back in the lab. The cold glass. The screaming. Faces of the people he'd lost flashed behind his eyelids, raw and blindingly bright. He let out a ragged scream, dropping to his knees. Around him, the server screens in the Rot blew out in a shower of sparks.
When he forced his eyes open, the bulkhead behind them was gone. Sentinels stepped through the smoke, their red optics locking onto him. A heavy metal hand lunged for his throat.
The shard in Kieran's hand pulsed deep blue and everything stopped.
The Sentinel froze mid-reach. The smoke hung perfectly still in the air. Kieran slowly stood up, looking at his glowing hand. The panic was gone. In its place was a sharp, terrifying clarity. He remembered it all. The code, the city, his mother.
He looked at the frozen machine in front of him. He didn't need to run anymore.
- Writer
