The heat from the cooling system explosion was still fading, replaced by the damp, metallic chill of the Sector 5 maintenance tunnels. Zeta moved with a predatory silence, his boots barely making contact with the rusted metal grating beneath them. Every sense he possessed was heightened, calibrated to the shifting air currents and the faint, rhythmic hum of the city’s underlying grid. He guided the rebel squad through the darkness, his hand signaling them to halt every few meters while he verified the path ahead. The tunnels were a labyrinth of pipes, wires, and ancient machinery, smelling strongly of ozone and stagnant condensation. To anyone else, it was a graveyard of industrial rot, but to Zeta, it was a data stream he could read with absolute clarity.
"Stay close," Zeta whispered,
