Still in the vent passage, but through the new hole. A new path. Same air. Same heat. No light source except the liquid lantern on my waist.
The lantern lights our path forward and erases it behind us.
We put distance between ourselves and the sound of chains we no longer hear.
We slow. We breathe. The threat feels distant now.
"The thing on your hand," Ashlynn says. "They call it leechsteel. I think."
"Leechsteel?" I ask.
"An alchemical weapon used by the military. Their inhuman division. It's true—they exist."
Inhuman.
Again.
"Is the feral too? Inhuman?" I ask.
"I don't know how ferals are made. But they are inhumans too." She murmurs, almost to herself. "I always knew they existed. All of them."
She stops talking. Takes my left hand. Walks in silence, eyes down.
A few steps later.
A ladder. Two openings. One up. One down.
"We tried going up," I say. "It cost us Riko. Down?"
Ashlynn releases my hand. "Don't mention his name. Not right now."
I take out the red notebook. Look for something solid.
Tauran City Prison. No vent passages. No lower floors.
I close it. Slide it back into my pocket.
"I want to go down," I say.
"I'm coming with you," Ashlynn says.
We go down. I first. Ashlynn after.
Vent passage. Third floor.
My feet land on damp ground. Humid. Hot. The air is heavier here. Sound echoes. The ceiling is low—almost brushing my head.
I smell something familiar. Clean. Sharp.
The kind of smell you expect from hygiene products.
Hospital.
The word comes with meaning. No recollection.
Ashlynn lands behind me and takes position without thinking. Natural.
I turn. She looks back.
I notice a small mole under her left eye.
"Let's move," she says. She taps my left shoulder.
I walk. She follows.
The passage curves into a wide loop. No branches. No markers.
Only the lantern. Only my nose.
"Mmmmm…"
Not mine. Not Ashlynn's.
Ahead.
I raise my hand, index finger up.
Ashlynn nods.
We move slowly.
A square opening appears on the right wall ahead. Small, but crawlable.
I lower myself and move closer. Warm, moist air touches my skin.
Inside—vertical steel bars bolted into floor and ceiling. Not thick.
Light spills through.
From this angle I can see part of a ceiling beyond the bars.
"Mmmmmmm."
Clear now. A man. Struggling. Mouth covered.
Shadows move.
Ting. Tang.
Bzzzt.
Someone is working on him.
I crawl back. Stand. Lean close to Ashlynn.
"We've been walking too long," I whisper. "This is probably the only way out."
"We wait," she whispers back. "Until they leave."
We move away from the opening.
I press my back to the wall and slide down.
Ashlynn sits beside me. Rests her head on my left shoulder.
I close my eyes.
—
I'm lying on a bed. A large room. Soft blue walls. Paintings of animals. Toys on the floor. On the table. On the wardrobe.
A woman enters. Picks me up. Hugs me. Kisses my forehead. My cheeks.
She says something I don't understand.
I laugh.
Joy.
—
Guuuu…
I wake to Ashlynn's stomach.
"I'm hungry," she says.
"Then we need to find something," I say.
We return to the opening. I crouch. Listen. Nothing. I crawl inside. Swing the leechsteel once. The bars shear clean. I catch them before they fall.
We drop into the room. I land first. Ashlynn second.
Heat from chemical fumes. Light from lanterns on the wall.
Restraint tables facing hand-powered blood extractors. Tubes run into unlabeled glass containers marked with symbols. Organ tools hang nearby. Worn smooth. Stacks of notebooks in the corner. Same diagrams. Different handwriting.
Nothing here is improvised.
Nothing here is meant to be undone.
Ashlynn approaches a restraint table. Runs her fingers along the metal. Still wet. Still red. She comments "So this is where they extract the fuel."
She looks at me. Breathing shallow. Brow tight.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Footsteps. Outside.
Click.
The door opens.