Ara didn't slow until the heavy steel door slammed shut behind them. The sound echoed through the narrow service tunnel, rattling the old copper pipes overhead.
Kiro leaned against the wall, helmet tilted down, breaths coming fast.
"That… was…" He swallowed hard. "…stupid."
Ara rounded on him. "You think? Splitting your head between two minds? You could've fried yourself."
The tunnel smelled of damp stone and machine oil. It wasn't part of the student areas — this was where the Academy kept its plumbing, wiring, and other things the polished halls hid from visitors.
Kiro pressed his gloved fingers to the side of his helmet, feeling the phantom throb of pain that pulsed behind his eyes. The golden web was gone now, but his skull still felt like it had been pried open.
Ara studied him, her voice softer. "How bad?"
"I've had worse."
"Liar."
He managed a smirk. "Maybe."
They moved deeper into the tunnels, Ara taking the lead. Her pace was brisk — not panicked, but purposeful.
Kiro glanced around. "You've been down here before."
She didn't look back. "Few people know the old layouts. I grew up in places with more rats than rooms. You learn to find the paths nobody else walks."
A sudden metallic groan echoed through the pipes above. Kiro froze, tilting his head.
It wasn't just the sound. For the briefest second, he felt it — a flicker in the dark, like the echo of a thread brushing against his mind. But it was gone before he could grab it.
"Something's following us," he said.
Ara didn't argue. "Then we don't stop moving."
They reached a junction — three tunnels branching off. Ara went right without hesitation.
Kiro's legs felt heavier with each step. The aftershock wasn't fading; it was getting worse, his thoughts swimming in and out of focus. Twice, he almost stumbled, catching himself on the wall.
"You're bleeding," Ara said suddenly.
He blinked. "What?"
She reached up, pointing to a thin line of crimson running from under his helmet's edge, just in front of his ear.
"Great," he muttered. "Brain's leaking now."
Before Ara could reply, the tunnel ahead rattled violently. A shadow slipped across the far wall — humanoid, but wrong in its movements, too fluid for a person.
Ara's knife was in her hand instantly. "That's not Syndicate. That's… something else."
Kiro reached for the golden web — and instantly regretted it. Pain lanced through his head, sharp enough to make his knees buckle.
The shadow moved faster now, sliding along the walls like oil. A second one joined it, then a third, all closing in.
Ara stepped in front of him. "You're not fighting like this. Stay behind me."
For once, he didn't argue.
The shadows lunged. Ara's blade sliced one cleanly — but instead of bleeding, it burst into a cloud of black dust, vanishing into the air.
The second shadow darted low, slipping past her. Kiro raised his arm purely on instinct, bracing for impact.
The thing hit his gauntlet and dissolved just as quickly.
Ara exhaled. "Illusions."
"Then why do they feel real?" Kiro asked.
"That's the part that worries me."
They pressed on, the tunnel sloping upward. The air grew colder again — not as sharply as on the roof, but enough to make Kiro's breath visible.
When they finally reached another steel door, Ara shoved it open. The two of them emerged into a dim storage hall stacked with crates.
Kiro pulled off his helmet, wiping the blood from his temple. "We need answers. That guy on the roof — he's not just some mercenary. He's in my head."
Ara met his eyes. "Then we find out how to get him out before you lose yourself."
The cold in the room deepened. Neither of them had touched the door.
Kiro realized, too late, that they weren't alone.
A figure stepped from between the crates — no cloak this time, just black leather armor dusted with frost.
"Leaving so soon?" the Cryomancer asked.