The abandoned subway tunnel was cold and damp, with flickering emergency lights casting eerie shadows on the walls. Isabelle's footsteps echoed against the rails as she followed Damian deeper underground, each step pulling them further from the life she once knew.
She clutched her jacket tighter. "You sure this leads somewhere?"
"Yeah," Damian said, scanning the path with a small flashlight. "There's an old service route down here. It connects to the west-end evac zones—Lena helped map them out before she… before all this."
His voice faltered slightly, and for the first time, Isabelle saw something vulnerable crack through his calm exterior.
"You were close?" she asked softly.
He didn't look at her. "We trusted each other. That's rare in this line of work."
Isabelle nodded. There was something about this world—secrets and sacrifice seemed to be the price of survival.
A metallic clang echoed behind them.
They both stopped.
Damian turned off the flashlight and pressed Isabelle against the wall. In the distance, red scanning beams flicked through the dark.
Drones.
"They're in the tunnels?" Isabelle whispered, heart pounding.
"They're everywhere now," Damian replied. "But they're not looking for a fight—they're mapping the area. Which means the Collective thinks we're headed somewhere specific."
"And we are," Isabelle said, eyes narrowing. "The override… it's in Portstone, right?"
Damian glanced at her, surprised. "Yeah."
"Then let's stop hiding and move faster."
He smirked. "You're getting braver."
"I'm just tired of running."
They crept forward until they reached a rusted gate. Damian bent down and pried it open, revealing a stairwell leading into a sealed metro bunker.
Inside, the walls were lined with peeling posters and shattered screens. But in the center of the room sat something unexpected—a transmitter pod, sleek and glowing faintly blue.
Isabelle approached it. "What is this?"
Damian's eyes widened. "A prototype signal diverter. The Collective used these to reroute surveillance feeds. It's supposed to be off-grid."
He checked the base. "This one's active."
Isabelle stepped back. "Could it be a trap?"
"Or…" Damian's voice dropped to a whisper, "…someone else is trying to help us."
Suddenly, the pod projected a hologram into the air.
A woman's face appeared—pale, with a mechanical eye and a barcode on her cheek. "If you're seeing this, it means you found what I left behind. Good. That means you're not like them."
Isabelle stared, stunned. "Who is she?"
Damian responded with a tremble in his voice. "Dr. Elira Vance. One of the Collective's original architects… and the one who vanished without a trace five years ago."
The hologram continued.
"I created the override, and I buried the map in a code only I could break. But time is running out. The Collective is preparing to erase the last remnants of free will. The map you hold will guide you to what remains of Portstone… but beware. Not everything buried stays dead."
The transmission cut out.
Silence filled the room.
Damian stood still, processing the message. "She's alive. Or was. This changes everything."
Isabelle touched the screen where the hologram had been. "So we're not just running from the Collective anymore…"
"No," Damian said, a fire igniting in his voice. "We're going to burn their whole operation to the ground."
They exited the bunker with a new urgency, climbing through the final tunnel that led to the city outskirts. As the dawn light cracked through the rusted metal grates above, a distant skyline appeared—crumbling towers, fog-choked roads, and silence.
Portstone.
The ghost city.
Waiting.