Chapter 4: Beneath the Crumbling Walls

Elias moved through the darkened tunnel, his hand clenched tightly around the stolen gun. Each step echoed against the damp, cracked walls, the sound swallowed quickly by the oppressive air. The stench of rust, mold, and something long-dead hung heavy, making his stomach churn with each breath.

Dim yellow lights flickered intermittently from the overhead fixtures, as if they were trying to hold onto their last sparks of life. He didn’t know where he was going—only that he had to move. Far from the corpse. Far from the gunshots. Far from the mystery that was slowly closing in around him like a trap.

Somewhere behind him, someone had likely already found the dead man’s body. Whoever he worked for would not be pleased. And if Elias was the target… they would come. Again.

A sharp metallic clang snapped Elias from his thoughts.

He froze, raising his weapon. His pulse quickened. Silence followed. Then—footsteps. Light. Careful.

“I don’t want trouble,” he said, trying to steady his voice.

“No weapons,” a female voice called out. “I swear.”

From the shadows emerged a girl, perhaps a few years younger than him, dressed in a tattered cloak. Her boots were worn, caked with mud, and her cheeks smudged with grime. But her eyes—sharp and cautious—never left him.

“You’re not from here,” she said.

“I don’t even know where here is.”

She frowned. “That thing in your arm—turn it off.”

“I don’t know how.”

Her frown deepened. “Figures.”

They stared at each other for a tense moment. Then, slowly, she lowered her hands. “Name’s Mara.”

“Elias.”

“You look like hell.”

He let out a dry chuckle. “I feel worse.”

Mara stepped closer, squinting at his arm. “That tech is old. Ancient. People would kill for a fragment of it.”

“They already tried.”

She looked around, then motioned quickly. “Come. It’s not safe to talk here.”

They moved in silence, slipping through a narrow maintenance shaft that reeked of mold and decay. Twisting paths and broken steps led them deeper underground until they reached a space hidden behind a sheet of rusted metal, camouflaged beneath piles of old wiring and debris.

Inside was a crude shelter: a small mattress made from scavenged cloth, a table cluttered with tools, and a battery-powered lamp flickering weakly in the corner.

Mara tossed Elias a bottle of water. He caught it with shaky hands.

“Why help me?” he asked.

She shrugged, removing her hood. Her hair was cropped short, and a scar ran from her ear to the edge of her jaw.

“Because I’ve seen that look before,” she said. “Woke up once with no idea who I was either. No memories. Just fear, and questions.”

Elias stared at her. “And now?”

“I’ve got a few answers,” she said. “Not many. But enough to survive.”

He drank, letting the cold water cut through the dryness in his throat.

“I need to know what’s happening,” he said. “Why they’re hunting me. What this thing is.” He looked at his arm. The device pulsed faintly, steady.

Mara sat beside the table and pulled out a ragged, oil-stained map. “There’s a place east of here. Old city ruins. Some say there’s a vault—a data core. Pre-Fall tech. If anyone has answers, it’s there.”

“Then I need to go there.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You won’t make it alone. The wastelands are crawling with scavengers, reavers, and worse.”

Elias met her eyes. “Then come with me.”

A pause. Her expression unreadable.

Then, she sighed. “Damn it. I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

But she nodded.

As the lamp flickered again and darkness crept closer, Elias realized something had shifted. For the first time since awakening in that tomb of concrete and steel, he wasn’t alone.

But deep down, a voice whispered—Don’t trust too easily.

Not in a world built on betrayal.

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