Chapter 3: The Underground
Edinburgh's winter fog clung to the city like a secret. Old cobbled streets curled between Gothic buildings and neon storefronts. Anderson walked with purpose, eyes darting toward every camera, every hover-bot scanning the crowds.
He arrived at the edge of the ancient forest surrounding the Royal Botanic Garden. The oak tree—massive, gnarled, and older than the city itself—stood like a guardian of forgotten knowledge. Beneath its roots was the spot marked in Z's files.
Anderson scanned the tree's trunk. A handprint symbol glowed faintly under his touch. The ground trembled. Roots shifted. A hatch revealed itself among the tangled roots. He stepped into the dark.
A spiral staircase led down into the earth. As he descended, the air grew warmer. Lights flickered on along the stone walls—activated by his presence. At the bottom was a chamber lined with steel and glass, humming softly.
Dr. Z's hidden lab.
Inside were shelves of ancient books, bioluminescent plants, and sleek consoles pulsing with encrypted files. A preserved hologram flickered to life: a recording of Dr. Z himself.
"If you are seeing this," the projection said, "then my blood flows in your veins. I knew the world would come for what I created. I knew I had to leave behind more than science. I had to leave behind a choice."
The recording paused. A small chamber in the wall opened, revealing another vial—identical to the first—and a metal ring embedded with nanotech. A genetic reader.
Just as Anderson reached for it, the door at the top of the staircase slammed open.
"You've led us right to him," a cold voice said.
Anderson turned, heart pounding. Standing in the entrance was the woman in grey. Behind her: armed mercenaries.
"Run," the hologram of Dr. Z whispered.
Anderson grabbed the vial and the ring, smashed the emergency escape panel, and dove into the shadows of the lab. Alarms howled. The underground trembled as energy surged through ancient machines.
Somewhere in the darkness, a new path opened. One that would test every ounce of his courage.
And somewhere deeper still, the ghost of Dr. Z waited.
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