The maintenance door vibrated under a hard impact.
*BOOM.*
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Zayn stumbled back. "They're trying to break through!"
"No kidding," Mira snapped.
*BOOM.*
Another dent punched inward, metal squealing in protest.
Mira grabbed Zayn by the wrist. "We need to move before they turn that door into scrap."
He nodded shakily. "This way—stay close."
The maintenance corridor stretched ahead—narrow, low, pipes overhead dripping cold water on their shoulders. The smell of rust and damp concrete clung to the air.
Behind them:
*BOOM.*
*BOOM.*
The door was giving way.
Mira muttered, "Any chance this tunnel has an exit?"
Zayn gave a half-laugh. "Sure. Tons of them. They just don't go where you'd like."
"What does that mean?"
"It means…" he hesitated, "…they connect to the old metro lines."
Mira stopped. "Old? As in abandoned?"
"Abandoned, erased, sealed, forgotten—pick a word."
"And you brought us *here*?!"
He pointed at the door as another impact echoed.
"You wanted danger? That's danger."
Fair point.
They kept moving, Mira's eyes adjusting to the darkness. A faint hum pulsed in the walls, like distant machinery waking up.
She whispered, "Do you hear that?"
Zayn nodded. "That's the grid."
"What about it?"
"It's… powering up."
Behind them, the door screamed one final time.
Then it **burst open**, metal shards scattering in all directions.
Both figures stepped inside, silhouettes framed in the flickering light. Their eyes glowed faint blue, scanning.
Mira's blood ran cold.
"Go!"
They sprinted deeper into the tunnels.
### **The Descent**
The corridor sloped downward, turning from concrete to old tile. Mira's boots splashed through thin puddles. Pipes rattled above with every step.
Zayn panted, "They're syncing to the metro network again."
Mira didn't slow. "Meaning?"
"Meaning everything down here is on their side."
"Fantastic."
They took a sharp turn—down a stairwell with broken railings—and entered a huge underground space.
Mira froze.
"What… is this?"
Zayn swallowed. "Old Junction 4."
Massive.
Empty.
Forgotten.
Tracks ran in six different directions, stretching into darkness. Rusted signs hung crookedly. Old posters curled on the walls. A collapsed ceiling section revealed twisted beams.
"It was shut down twenty years ago after a collapse," Zayn said quickly. "City sealed it. Pretended it never existed."
Mira took a step forward. "Then why does it still have power?"
Zayn didn't answer.
Because they both already knew the truth.
Another thunderous crash echoed behind them—the figures had reached the stairwell.
"No more talking," Mira said. "We need cover."
They ran across the junction and ducked behind a derailed train car half-sunk into the ground. Mira peered around the edge.
The two pursuers entered the junction like predators stepping into a hunting ground. Their eyes swept the space, glowing faintly. Their heads turned in perfect synchronization.
Zayn crouched low. "They're scanning the heat signatures."
"Can they see us?" Mira whispered.
"No. The old metal distorts their readings."
"That's one good thing."
Zayn shook his head. "Don't get too excited."
Mira frowned. "Why not?"
He pointed.
Another glow—red, not blue—lit up the far end of the junction.
A third figure stepped out.
Taller.
Broader.
Faster.
Zayn whispered, "That one's different."
Mira grabbed his arm. "Different how?"
Zayn swallowed hard. "Prototype. Early version. No scanning limitations."
The third figure turned its head sharply—
Right toward them.
Mira's eyes widened. "Run!"
They bolted as the three figures moved in unison.
The prototype leapt from the platform onto the tracks with inhuman grace, landing silently and sprinting.
Mira gasped, "Down the tunnel!"
"Which tunnel?!" Zayn shouted.
"Any tunnel!"
They slid down the nearest one—dark, narrow, water pooling at their ankles. The ground sloped steeply.
Footsteps thundered behind them.
Fast.
Too fast.
Zayn yelled, "Left! Left!"
They dove through a broken gate into another corridor. Sparks flew overhead as the prototype swiped at the metal bars—tearing through them like paper.
Mira shouted, "He's right behind us!"
Zayn skid to a halt. "This way!"
"Zayn, that's a service shaft—"
But he'd already kicked it open and jumped.
Mira followed, landing hard on a grated platform.
Above them, the prototype landed on the edge of the shaft, its glowing red eyes staring down.
It tilted its head.
Then it jumped.
Zayn screamed, "Go! Go! Go!"
They scrambled down the ladder as the machine collided with the platform above, metal shrieking under its weight.
Mira's hands burned as she slid. "This shaft better lead somewhere!"
"It does!" Zayn yelled.
"Where?"
"The old central hub!"
"That doesn't tell me anything!"
Zayn laughed breathlessly. "It's like the heart of the metro system!"
Mira gritted her teeth. "Why are you smiling?"
Zayn yelled back, "Because if we reach it—we're not the only ones down here."
Mira froze mid-descent.
"What does that mean?"
Zayn looked up just as the prototype slammed onto the ladder above them.
He whispered:
"It means we're not the only ones fighting them."