One of the men approached.
"How did you get here? This is a restricted area. And even if it were open, not everyone would have the courage to wander around here."
"Does it look like I'm out for a stroll?" Morgana replied.
"I'm sorry," the man added quickly. "Who sent you? Was it Dirk, the great initiate?"
"I don't know any Dirk," Morgana said.
"Essie, the leader from the Refuge, will be thrilled to thank you personally," the man added.
They led her through a maze of alleys and underground passages until they reached the entrance of an abandoned subway station, hidden behind a pile of old scrap metal.
The main platform was lit by bulbs powered by a generator that showed signs of wear. A fragile but lively community survived in this concrete settlement. A few people tended small hydroponic gardens, while children played or drew with charcoal on the cracked tile walls.
It was a "Refuge."
In the past, when these abandoned underground networks were still under authority control, refugees had gathered in these last remaining places.
There were dead ends, shelters, empty rooms, abandoned sheds, and disused aqueducts. Passages or secret locations unknown even to those who lived here.
Homeless people decided to live underground, venturing into the darkness only for a bit of fresh air.
A bed and table stuck to the wall, a few essential items on the floor, photos taped to the walls, a single bulb—it was a last attempt to establish a home.
Morgana was led to the end of the station, into a control car, which turned into an office. There, on an old chair, sat a woman around 50 years old. Her hair was completely white, and on the left side of her face, she had a fan of fine scars. It was Essie Hanksa, the leader of the Lost Ones. She looked up, and her faded blue eyes studied Morgana with obvious curiosity.
"Your mark burns brighter than any I've seen. Welcome home, sister."
"I don't have a home," Hekate replied.
"Yes, you do. Anyone who carries this burden finds a home here," Essie replied, pointing to her own temple, where the same broken spiral was visible under the skin. "We are the ones who were pushed to the edge of the abyss and refused to fall. The ones who saw what's beyond and came back. That's why they hunt us."
"Who hunts us?" Morgana asked, though she already knew part of the answer.
"They have many names, but we call them 'the Retrievers.' A faction obsessed with 'perfection.' They think we're errors, defects that need to be fixed or eliminated. Their envoy, the one with the hammer, is also called 'the Fixer.' He's the most well-known. Just one of many. Now they've become bolder than ever."
"I didn't come here for a family reunion game. I think you know what's going to happen. So, if you can't really stand against these things, head east and leave all this behind."
"We're not leaving here. Ever," Essie said. "Until today, the gods haven't entered this area. The Lost Ones, those who wanted to find freedom, have been waiting all along. And now you're here."
"I'm not a god."
"We have a defense system set up here, and another one to the west. I know it's not enough. Those who want to help are welcome, of course, and we have a duty to show them a way."
"You're really that crazy. That's because you don't realize the real dangers."
"Like you, I've been defeated too many times. Fate knocked me down for the last time when my family died. I found a place to protect me. A place that's far from peaceful. For now, we're invisible to most eyes. We're not real soldiers. Most of us never were. What matters is what we'll do from now on."
Essie leaned forward.
"We have a problem, Morgana. The Retrievers have captured one of ours. Kael. He's our cartographer, the only one who knows the locations of the other refuges. They'll destroy him, piece by piece, until he gives up all our secrets. My people are good fighters, but you're something else. Help us get him back. Do it for us."
"I never fix serious errors," Morgana replied coldly.
Essie smiled sadly, understanding. She didn't feel offended. She reached out and picked up a small object from the table. It was an old military-style data card.
"I know who you are. Or rather, what you were. I know about the Order and its programs. I got this a long time ago, at a price you can't imagine. It's a map. Incomplete, but accurate. It contains the coordinates of three secret facilities of the Order. One of them, we suspect, is the main unit. The one they called 'the White Room.'
Morgana's eyes narrowed. For a second, the nightmare invaded her.
Essie was offering her not just information, but access to her revenge.
"I want Kael back. Alive," Essie continued. "Do this, and the card is yours."
Morgana looked at the card, then at Essie. For the first time since she escaped, her path wasn't just a random journey through the darkness.
Now she had a destination. A way to settle an old debt.
"You know I could take this card without your permission?"
"Yes, I know. But I also know you won't. You're convinced I can offer you much more."
"Tell me everything you know about the place where they're holding him."
"You'll find him in the city of Cirtha. Until you go there, I invite you to dinner," said Essie.