The charging indicator on Kai's Conduit emitted a soft, final chime as its reserves filled to capacity. The sound was absurdly domestic—the kind of noise that might have accompanied a kitchen appliance finishing its cycle in some long-lost Spire apartment. Karen disconnected her own device with a sharp click. A thin trickle of fresh blood seeped through the makeshift bandage, the dark stain spreading slowly across the fabric.
She rolled her shoulder unintentionally, the muscles beneath the ruined socket twitching in protest. Every movement sent jagged lines of pain radiating down her spine, but she'd be damned before she let it show.
"About fucking time," she muttered, holstering her pistol with a practiced twist of her wrist. The weapon settled against her hip with familiar weight. "I was starting to think we'd have to blow the damn grid just to get moving again."
Lucent said nothing. His knife slid back into its sheath with a whisper of steel on leather, the blade freshly honed to a lethal edge. The substation door hissed open at their approach, revealing the corridor beyond—now illuminated in the sterile white glow of fully restored lighting.
The sudden brightness made Kai blink, his eyes watering after so long in the gloom. Shadows retreated into sharp-edged corners, exposing every crack in the tiles, every faded safety warning stenciled on the walls in peeling yellow paint.
Back in the reception area, the floor map hung crookedly on its mounting, one corner torn away to reveal the rusted panel beneath. Kai traced the pathways with a finger gone slightly numb from gripping his Conduit too tightly. His nail caught on a gouge in the surface—some long-ago act of vandalism or desperation—before stopping at the unmistakable symbol of a red cross.
"Infirmary," he said. "East wing." His voice sounded too loud in the stillness.
Karen exhaled sharply through her nose, her breath stirring the fine layer of dust that had settled on the reception desk.
"Better have more than just gauze and antiseptic," she said, pressing the heel of her palm against her ruined socket. The pain had settled into a deep, insistent throb, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "If I'm walking through this fucking graveyard, I want proper painkillers."
Lucent studied the map in silence, his dark eyes tracking the branching corridors with the precision of a man memorizing escape routes. The lines around his mouth deepened slightly as he noted the red-striped zones marked CONTAINMENT and the clusters of black dots indicating security stations. When he finally turned toward the eastern corridor, his boot heels scraped against the tile, the sound unnaturally loud in the empty space.
"Stay sharp," he said, the words quiet but carrying an edge like a blade's first cut.
The implication hung unspoken between them. The power wasn't the only thing that might have woken in this tomb.
Karen fell into step behind him, her gait uneven but determined. The lab's newly illuminated halls stretched before them, their polished surfaces reflecting the trio's distorted silhouettes like funhouse mirrors. Somewhere in the maze of sterile corridors and sealed doors, a ventilation grate rattled softly—just the building settling, perhaps. Or something stirring in the ducts.
Kai tightened his grip on his Conduit, the device humming softly in response. Its screen cast pale blue light across his fingers, illuminating the half-healed cuts and fresh callouses that marked his transformation from Spire brat to survivor.
The infirmary door loomed ahead, its reinforced glass streaked with years of grime. Through the murky window, shadows moved—or maybe it was just the flicker of the lights.
Karen's fingers twitched toward her pistol.
The infirmary door hissed open, revealing a sterile white room lined with cabinets and empty cots. Before they could take a single step inside, a skeletal mechanical figure unfolded itself from a charging station in the corner with a series of sharp, pneumatic clicks.
The nurse bot was a relic—its once-pristine white chassis yellowed with age, its optical sensors flickering unevenly as it regarded them. One of its arms ended in a syringe array, the other in a delicate spellcasting matrix that hummed with residual energy. It lurched forward with jerky, outdated movements, its voice box crackling to life with the cadence of a pre-recorded message.
"S-S-SOP Protocol Initiated." The words stuttered out between bursts of static. "P-Please provide identification c-cards for scanning. State reason for infirmary visit. Provide t-t-time stamp for records."
Kai's Conduit flared to life before he could stop himself, a Flashburn glyph half-formed in the air. Karen already had her pistol drawn, the barrel leveled at the bot's flickering optics. Only Lucent remained still, his knife held low but ready.
The nurse bot didn't react to their weapons. It simply waited, its head tilting at an unnatural angle. "I-I-Identification required."
Lucent exhaled sharply through his nose and sheathed his blade. "Stand down," he muttered. "It's just following protocol." He stepped forward, his fingers already moving to the access panel on the bot's chest. The casing popped open with a squeal of rusted hinges, revealing a nest of frayed wires and corroded circuitry.
Karen kept her pistol raised. "You sure hacking it's a good idea? Last time someone messed with Myriad tech—"
"I know what I'm doing," Lucent interrupted, his voice clipped. His fingers danced across the bot's innards, bypassing security layers with practiced precision. The bot twitched, its limbs spasming as its systems were overridden.
"W-W-Warning. Unauthorized access detected. Security protocols—" The voice cut off abruptly as Lucent yanked a cluster of wires free. The bot's optics dimmed, then reset with a soft chime.
"Welcome," after a reboot it said smoothly, its voice suddenly clear. "How may I assist?"
Karen lowered her pistol slightly. "Painkillers. Strong ones."
The bot's spellcasting matrix activated before she could finish speaking, a pale green scanning glyph unfolding in the air. The spell washed over them in a wave of tingling energy, analyzing everything from heart rates to chemical imbalances.
"Processing," the bot intoned. Its syringe arm whirred as it turned toward a sealed cabinet, the lock disengaging with a hiss. Inside, rows of medications sat neatly organized, their labels crisp and unyellowed.
Kai blinked. "These... these are recent." The expiration dates were from the last quarter—impossible, unless someone had restocked them within the past few months.
The bot retrieved three hyposprays, each filled with a different solution. It moved toward Karen first, its movements now fluid and precise. "A-Anti-inflammatory and neural suppressant," it explained as the needle pressed against her neck with a soft hiss. Almost immediately, the tension in her shoulders eased, the constant throb of her augment port dulling to a distant ache.
Next was Kai. "Neurostimulant and adrenal regulator," the bot announced. The hypospray clicked against his throat, and a cool sensation spread through his veins. The ever-present buzz of exhaustion lifted slightly, his thoughts sharpening.
Finally, Lucent. The bot hesitated for a fraction of a second before administering his dose. "Toxin flush and cellular repair catalyst."
Lucent's jaw tightened as the medicine took effect, his fingers twitching at his sides. Karen shot him a look, but he ignored it, his attention fixed on the bot.
"Who restocked these?" he demanded.
The bot's optics flickered. "Maintenance cycle ongoing. All supplies replenished per protocol."
A chill settled over the room. Maintenance cycles didn't run themselves. Not for decades.
Somewhere deeper in the lab, a door slid open with a whisper of hydraulics.
The bot's head snapped toward the sound. "Subject retrieval detected. Please remain calm."
The sterile glow of the infirmary lights painted sharp shadows across Lucent's face as he considered the nurse bot's warning. His fingers drifted unconsciously to the small vial tucked in his inner pocket—the one containing a single, precious dose of Q-Serin.
The glass was cool against his fingertips, the liquid inside sloshing faintly with every breath. He hadn't used it yet. Not during the Hollowed attacks, not when the abomination chased them through the tunnels. He'd been saving it for the moment when there truly was no other choice.
"Q-Serin," Lucent repeated, his voice low but deliberate. "Do you have it in stock?"
The nurse bot's smooth motions stuttered for a fraction of a second, its optical sensors cycling through several rapid focus adjustments before locking onto Lucent's face. A series of internal servos whined as it straightened to its full height, suddenly more alert, more official.
"Q-Serin access requires Level-7 identification clearance," it announced, its voice losing the static-laced cadence and shifting into something colder, more bureaucratic. "Please present authorized credentials for verification."
Lucent didn't move. "So you're confirming there is stock available."
The bot's spellcasting matrix activated with a sharp hum, projecting a glowing red hologram that hung in the air between them. The text scrolled in precise, unforgiving lines:
RESTRICTED PHARMACEUTICAL ACCESS WARNING:Unauthorized personnel attempting to procure Class-9 neuroenhancements will be subject to immediate Type-1 Neural Scrub procedureFollowing scrubbing, all facility privileges will be permanently revokedOffending parties will be remanded to surface disposal
Karen let out a low whistle, her fingers tightening around her pistol grip. "Surface disposal? That's a fancy way of saying they'll throw your scrambled brain out with the trash."
Kai's breath hitched as he read the final line. His Spire education made him all too aware of what neural scrubbing entailed—not just memory suppression, but a complete synaptic reset. The lucky ones woke up as blank slates. The unlucky ones forgot how their lungs worked.
The nurse bot's head tilted at an unnatural angle, its optics reflecting their faces back at them in distorted fragments. "This is your first and only warning," it intoned, the pleasant medical cadence gone, replaced by something mechanical and unyielding. "Step away from restricted pharmaceuticals."
Lucent's fingers curled around the vial in his pocket. He could feel the slight weight of the liquid inside, the way it moved with the barest pressure. One dose. That's all he had. And if the bot was guarding more...
Karen was already backing toward the door, her boots scuffing against the sterile floor. "We're leaving," she announced, not waiting for consensus. "Now."
Lucent held the bot's gaze for one more heartbeat before stepping back. The Q-Serin in his pocket would have to be enough—for now. The bot's posture relaxed marginally, its spell matrix powering down with a fading whine.
"Wise decision," it remarked, the artificial pleasantness returning to its voice. "Please remember to file the proper requisition forms for future pharmaceutical needs."
They exited just as something heavy slammed against the far end of the corridor. The door hissed shut behind them, sealing away the pristine medicines and the bot's hollow hospitality. Lucent's thumb rubbed against the vial through the fabric of his coat, a silent promise to himself.
When the time came, he'd be ready. But that time wasn't today
***
The reception area's artificial lighting hummed softly overhead, casting a clinical glow over the cracked vinyl chairs and yellowed informational posters still clinging to the walls.
One poster showed a smiling technician holding a clipboard, the bold text beneath reading "SAFETY FIRST!" in cheerful blue letters.
Someone had long ago defaced it with a crude drawing of a skull and crossbones in what looked like dried blood.
Lucent's fingers absently traced the edge of his Q-Serin vial through the fabric of his coat as he studied the floor map. The glass felt unnaturally warm against his skin, as if the liquid inside pulsed with its own quiet energy.
Rena's face floated in his memory - that knowing look she'd given him when she'd pressed the vial into his palm days ago. "For emergencies only," she'd said, her voice barely above a whisper.
At the time, he'd assumed she meant when death was at the door. Now he wondered if she'd known exactly what kind of hell awaited them in these buried labs.
Across the room, Karen slumped deeper into the cracked leather couch, her boots leaving streaks of grime on the coffee table as she stretched her legs out. The painkillers were hitting hard now, smoothing the harsh lines of pain from her face, making her movements loose and uncoordinated.
"Fuuuuuck," she drawled, the word stretching out as she blinked slowly at the ceiling. "This is the good shit. Better than sex. Better than... better than..." Her hand flopped through the air as she struggled to think of something better.
Kai sat rigid beside her, his fingers tapping an erratic rhythm against his knees. The neurostimulant raced through his veins like lightning, making his nerves sing. Every flicker of the fluorescent lights registered with painful clarity; every rustle of fabric sounded like a gunshot to his heightened senses. When he spoke, the words tumbled out too fast.
"We should be moving. Right now. The longer we stay here the more likely something finds us. That bot said there was subject retrieval happening which means they're collecting specimens which could mean they know we're here or maybe they're just on a schedule but either way we're sitting ducks in this-"
"Breathe, Spire boy," Karen mumbled, reaching over to pat his knee with exaggerated care. "You're gonna give yourself a stroke." Her hand missed entirely, slapping against the couch cushion instead.
Lucent didn't join their banter. His attention was fixed on the security camera in the far corner, its red eye now glowing steadily. The lens contracted slightly as it focused, the faintest whine of ancient servos reaching his ears. Someone was watching. Or something. The realization settled in his gut like a stone.
The map beneath his fingers crinkled as his grip tightened. Sub-Level 3 beckoned, its access point just past the central elevators according to the faded schematics. But between here and there stretched a gauntlet of unknown dangers - security systems that might still be active, specimens that might have broken containment, and now, apparently, automated retrieval protocols hunting through the facility.
Kai's fingers drummed against his knees, the neurostimulant making his thoughts race as he glanced at Karen. "So what'd you get back there anyway?" he asked, nodding toward the infirmary. "Besides the obvious painkillers."
Karen smirked, her eyelids heavy from the drugs but her grin sharp as ever. She tapped the side of her nose with one finger. "Secret."
Kai opened his mouth to protest, but before he could push further, the intercom crackled to life with its ominous warning. The moment shattered, the question left hanging in the air between them—another mystery in a place already full of them.
Lucent's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"We're moving. Now."
And just like that, the brief respite was over.
As they pushed to their feet, the security camera tracked their every move, its lens contracting and expanding like the pupil of some mechanical predator. The red light pulsed once, twice, as if sending a signal deeper into the facility's darkened heart.
The sterile corridors stretched before them, their footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floors as they made their way toward the central elevators. The hum of the facility's systems was the only sound—no screams, no scraping of claws, just the persistent buzz of fluorescent lights flickering overhead.
Kai kept glancing at Karen, his curiosity gnawing at him. "Come on," he muttered under his breath. "You can't just say 'secret' and leave it at that."
Karen smirked, her gait steadier now thanks to the painkillers. "Watch me."
Before Kai could press further, a smooth, articulated whirring cut through the silence. From a side corridor, a security bot rolled into view—its sleek, armored chassis gleaming under the harsh lights, its single red optic scanning them with mechanical precision.
"Identification required," it announced, its voice crisp and devoid of static, unlike the nurse bot's. "Unauthorized personnel in restricted sector. Present clearance or submit to detainment."
Lucent didn't hesitate. His left hand slipped behind his back, his Conduit already flaring to life in his palm. The spellapp unfolded with practiced ease—a Rank 2 EMP Stun, one he'd used countless times back when rogue security drones plagued the scrap yards near his shop.
The air crackled as the glyph formed, a jagged pulse of energy lashing out before the bot could react. Its systems seized, its optic flickering wildly before dimming entirely. The bot listed to one side, then collapsed with a heavy thud, its limbs twitching in useless spasms.
Silence returned.
Karen let out a low whistle. "Handy trick."
Lucent didn't respond. He stepped over the bot's inert form, his expression unreadable. The elevators were just ahead.
Kai stared at the disabled machine, then at Lucent's back. "You just... had that ready?"
Lucent didn't turn around. "Always be prepared for corporate pests."
Karen chuckled, shaking her head as she followed. "Guess we know who's on door duty from now on."
The elevator doors loomed before them, their polished surfaces reflecting their tired, battle-worn faces back at them.
Sub-Level 3 awaited.