Alex looked at him for a few moments. "No, it's too dangerous."
Adrian replied a moment later. "I've tried everything, Alex. Two weeks. Nothing. This is all I've got left."
Alex's fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. "No, we're losing two men each month," he said, voice low, almost a growl. "Not just rookies. Vets. Even the good ones."
Adrian's throat went dry. He hadn't been this desperate in months.
"You don't get it," Alex continued, stepping closer, eyes blazing red in the dim light of the room. "People vanish down there, Adrian. The tunnels eat them. Maps don't mean shit. You think you're tough enough to fight hallucinations? Traps? Forget it."
Adrian's stomach twisted. He knew the crypts were bad, but hearing Alex say it aloud made it real.
He clenched his fists, feeling the rough scrape of his nails against his palms. "I know it's dangerous," he admitted, voice tight, "but staying here… I'm already dead if I wait. I need this."
Alex shook his head, stepping back. "You don't understand what you're asking for. You'll get lost. Even with a map, the crypts shift in ways no one can predict. You could break your neck before you even realize you're in danger."
Adrian looked down, his hands fidgeting at his sides. He recalled a night years ago, sitting with Alex and Cassian on the roof of this same building, watching the orange glow of the city below and discussing their dreams. Back then, the three of them had made a promise.
"I've survived worse," he said finally, voice quiet. "The slums."
Alex's jaw tightened, gaze darkening again. "This isn't overconfidence, Adrian. It's a real danger. People vanish down there, without a trace. We've lost good men. Too many."
Adrian's heart pounded. He had no illusions of safety. He knew the crypts weren't a playground. The tunnels stretched under the city, a sprawling maze built by hands lost to history. Smugglers had scouted parts and used them to smuggle goods. There were traps, collapsed sections, hallucinations designed to lure deeper into darkness. He knew. That's why he avoided it until now. But survival, and maybe a way out of the slums, was worth the risk.
Getting out of the slums wasn't a dream. It was a plan. And he was done waiting.
Alex frowned, his jaw tightening as he studied Adrian's face. He looked like he was about to argue, but something in Adrian's eyes stopped him. That kind of desperation didn't leave room for debate.
"I'll talk to the boss tomorrow."
Adrian braced himself. He was ready to argue, to dig in and refuse to back down.
But then the words caught up with him.
"I'll talk to the boss tomorrow."
For a second, he just stared at Alex, not quite believing it.
Was that it? After all this time, after all the begging, waiting, and starving, that was all it took? A few words?
The weight in his chest didn't vanish, but it shifted, just slightly, replaced by something sharp and dangerous.
Hope.
Then he gave a small nod, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough to breathe. His lips curled up into a small, satisfied smile.
The job wasn't safe. It was a gamble. A dangerous one. But at least now he had chips on the table.
"I owe you one," he added after a few moments of silence.
Alex's gaze softened for the first time since the mention of a job. "You're insane, you know that?"
Adrian shrugged, letting a small laugh escape. "Probably. But I'm desperate too."
Now he had a way out. He just had to live long enough to take it.
No more waiting. No more starving. Probably.
Adrian pushed his hands into his pockets, staring at the floor. "They drafted him," he muttered, voice low.
Alex, sitting on the edge of the battered sofa, didn't look up immediately. "I know."
Adrian's stomach twisted. "You… you knew?"
Alex gave a small, bitter shrug. "Word spreads fast."
Adrian let out a short, bitter laugh. "I just watched him get taken. And I couldn't do a damn thing."
Alex leaned back, silent for a moment. "Yeah... you can't fight the draft."
Adrian shook his head. "It's like standing there watching someone walk into a storm. You can't stop it, can't shield them. All you do is… watch."
"He's stubborn. He'll survive," Alex said quietly.
Adrian snorted softly. "Survive, yeah… I just wish I could've done more. Anything."
"I guess that's life, huh?" Adrian murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Life doesn't give a damn," Alex chuckled softly.
Adrian cracked a small, bitter smile. "You always had the best pep talks."
Alex grinned faintly.
"You remember… that promise?" Adrian whispered. "Back on the roof. The three of us. That we'd get out of the slums?"
Alex's gaze softened, the hard edge in his eyes easing slightly. "Yeah. I remember."
Adrian's throat tightened. "I need to do this, Alex. If I stay here, then I'll just rot. But if I survive the Crypts, if I make it through… then maybe, if Cassian comes back, we won't have to go back. We won't have to live like this anymore."
Alex ran a hand over his face. "I know. That promise… it's why I'm even considering this. But it's dangerous, Adrian. Deadly."
Adrian squared his shoulders, eyes flicking up to meet Alex's. "I know it's dangerous. But it's the only way. That promise… it's more than words. I can't just let it die because I'm scared. If I survive, then when Cassian returns, none of us have to go back."
Alex studied him, silence stretching between them. Finally, he gave a small, resigned nod. "Alright. One step at a time. But we do this smart. We survive, and maybe, just maybe, we finally keep that promise."
Adrian felt a spark in his chest, fear, yes, but also something else. Hope. The kind that felt dangerous, but real. "Then let's make it happen," he said, voice low but certain.
The room fell quiet for a moment, save for the faint hum of the city outside. Adrian leaned back against the wall, letting his shoulders relax slightly, and Alex rubbed his temples, staring at the floor.
"The Crypts," Alex finally murmured, almost to himself. "You've heard the rumors, sure… but there's more than just tunnels down there."
Adrian tilted his head, curiosity creeping in despite the lingering heaviness. "Like what?"
"Some chambers… they're unlike anything you'd expect," Alex said, eyes flicking to the floor as if he could see the tunnels from here. "Shapes carved into the walls, symbols that don't match anything I've ever seen. Some glow faintly. Others… react if you touch them."
Adrian swallowed, feeling a mix of unease and fascination. "React how?"
Alex smirked faintly. "Sometimes they hum. Sometimes the walls feel… warm. A few of the guys swear they've seen the symbols shift, like the stone itself is alive. It's unnerving… but mesmerizing."
Adrian frowned. "Mesmerizing?"
Alex leaned back against the wall, shaking his head. "Yeah. You won't get it until you see it. You step inside some of those chambers, and you can't help but wonder who or what built them. There's history down there, long lost to the city above. Some of it dangerous. Some of it… haunting."
Adrian's mind drifted, imagining the endless passages, the glowing symbols, the strange geometry. "Sounds like a puzzle," he muttered, voice low.
"Exactly," Alex said, a spark in his eye. "A deadly puzzle."
Adrian's gaze dropped, a mix of fear and excitement warring in his chest.
They caught up in fragments, pieces traded back and forth as the hours slipped away.
Alex had hardened. His voice carried an edge now, clipped and sharp. After Adrian's mother died and dumped him into the slums, it was Alex who taught him to survive. Back then, Adrian barely knew how to fight hunger, let alone gangs.
Comfort had dulled him. Once, the worst thing he worried about was missing class. The slums fixed that. He still remembered one winter night, crouched under a leaking pipe, teeth chattering, trading his shoes for half a loaf of moldy bread. His feet bled for weeks. That was when he understood the world didn't care if he lived or not.
Alex talked about the smuggling crew. At first, he'd nearly drowned; every mistake a death sentence. He grinned about being trapped underground for two days without food or light, but the grin didn't reach his eyes.
Adrian's gaze drifted to the scar under his right eye. "That from the tunnels?"
Alex's smirk faltered, and just like that, he changed the subject. The silence afterward lingered heavier than any answer.
Instead, he rattled off lessons like warnings carved into stone.
"Triple-check every corner. Carry three times the food you think you'll need. Never trust silence."
Adrian absorbed each word like oxygen. If the job came, this might be the line between walking out and never being found.
By the time they looked up, the last light was bleeding from the sky.
"Forget it," Alex said. "You're not walking through this dump at night."
Adrian didn't argue. He took the couch, Alex tossed him a blanket, and they split a thin dinner. Two meals in a single day. Luxury, he could get used to.
Outside, the city held its breath. A drone skimmed past the window, its lens sweeping the alleys like a predator's eye.
Adrian lay back, listening until the hum faded. Once, drones were rare. Miracles of the sky. Then weekly. Then daily. Now they never left.
Not miracles anymore. Vultures, circling, waiting for something to die.
Sleep dragged him under with the thought still clinging to him.