7:03 PM — Theta-6 Outer Sublevel // Exit Path Echo-9
The corridors beneath Theta-6 were already beginning to collapse, not in sudden explosions or dramatic falls, but in the quiet, suffocating way that dying systems failed—lights dimming, metal weeping rust, walls sagging inward like breathless lungs.
Ryoji moved through the narrow passage with his rifle low and ready, every step deliberate, senses wound tight as the hum of the collapsing base thickened behind them. Dust cascaded from the ceiling like dry rain, whispering promises of total burial. Just behind him, Aiko's footsteps were silent, her Seal pulsing faintly in response to the increasingly unstable energy signature of the complex. Miura brought up the rear, her expression grim and focused, the scanner at her side flickering with red error codes it no longer had the processing power to explain.
They didn't look back.
They didn't need to.
Whatever Theta-6 had awakened—it would not die quietly.
The emergency exit tunnel was hidden behind what looked like a vent shaft, and had been sealed shut for decades. But Ryoji had memorized the override codes long ago. Not because he'd planned on coming back. But because he knew someday, someone would.
The door hissed open after a brief delay, revealing a narrow stairwell that led upward, steep and choked with heat and pressure. The old signage on the wall—most of it burned black—still read:
"ECHO-9 AIRFIELD // DIVISION ZERO CLASSIFIED – TERMINAL ACCESS: OMEGA FLIGHT"
7:49 PM — ECHO-9 Airstrip (Off-Map Location)
The airstrip wasn't on any map, past or present. It had been carved into a plateau during the earliest days of the Listening War, and had only been used a handful of times—once for extraction, once for exile. It wasn't meant to be found. Which was why they had a chance.
The winds howled over the cracked runway, where a single weather-worn hangar waited like a ghost, its surface scarred with breach burns and old blast marks. In front of it sat a long, matte-black transport plane, sleek and silent, engines low and ready.
Waiting beside the aircraft stood a tall figure in a pilot's jacket that had seen better decades, a toothpick hanging from his lip and a pair of cybernetic goggles perched lazily across his forehead. He didn't salute. He didn't wave.
He just grinned.
"Took you long enough," Toma Ren said, voice smooth as lacquered steel and twice as dry. "I started the engines three hours ago. Thought maybe I'd be flying ghosts tonight."
Ryoji stepped forward, his expression cracking into the first true smirk he'd worn in days. "Still chewing toothpicks instead of quitting?"
"Still punching faces that ask stupid questions."
They clasped hands—hard, like two men who'd lived through the same graveyard and hadn't forgotten any of it.
Miura gave the pilot a sharp nod. "We need to be in the air five minutes ago. Do you have clearance?"
Toma chuckled. "This bird's off-grid, sweetheart. Flies with a ghost signal. Only thing tracking us will be the gods, and they're bad with coordinates."
Aiko was quiet as she boarded, the Seal on her spine flickering faintly, like it too sensed what came next. She paused for only a heartbeat—long enough to glance back toward the collapsed horizon of Theta-6, where the breachlight still shimmered faintly beneath the clouds—and then stepped aboard.
Ryoji followed her.
8:13 PM — In Transit, 32,000 ft above Sea Level
The plane soared like it remembered war.
No flight plan. No transponder. No landing clearance.
Their destination: Seoul.
Not because it was safe.
But because it was the only place left that could help them.
Miura sat near the rear of the cabin, flipping through encrypted records burned into an old Division Zero data core she'd salvaged from Theta-6. Most of it was redacted, even from her clearance. But one name had shown up again and again, across years of research logs, suppression orders, and command overrides.
Kaito, Keisuke.
Ryoji leaned back against the bulkhead, arms folded across his chest, eyes closed—but not asleep.
"He's in Seoul?" he asked, voice low.
Miura nodded. "Has been for at least two years. Went off-grid. Changed networks every three days. But I know it's him."
"Your brother."
"Yeah."
Aiko looked up. "Can we trust him?"
Miura hesitated, then offered the smallest, bitterest smile. "He's a smartass. Addicted to weird jokes. Listens to music that would make machines cry. But he's the best code-hacker the world's ever seen. If anyone can dig into what Division Zero buried, it's him."
"And if they find him before we do?" Ryoji asked.
"They won't," Miura said flatly. "He's untraceable."
"And if we're wrong?"
"Then we die in Seoul."
TO BE CONTINUED…71